My Time With the Horselords
by bowmaiden
Summary: Mallory Gilmore is rescued in a foreign land by the Horselords of Rohan. She quickly finds herself fighting reasons to stay in a realm plagued by evils and a brewing war. Will Mallory find the help she needs to get back to her home or will Eomer help her find a reason to stay with the Horselords forever?
1. Chapter 1

**"Getting lost along your path is part of finding the path you were meant to be on" - Robin S. Sharma**

* * *

 **My Time With the Horselords**

 **Chapter 1**

What I remember most was the sharp, shooting pain in my head. The foggy memories of the night before were coming back to me. I assumed I had fallen asleep on our couch, comfortable as brick. I tried to turn over, but the sun was shining through the breaks in the curtains, and I forced my eyes tighter shut, begging for them to adjust before I opened them. But something wasn't right. Below me was not the ugly brown cushion of our couch, but ground. Earthy ground covered in prickly grass and sporadic hay. The gang must have pulled some kind of prank on me, I knew it. It was just like them to get me the most drunk and take me where I didn't belong out in the middle of the woods. But this wasn't the woods. My eyes began to adjust and from there, I started to grow scared. All around me was the morning mist of foreign plains I had never seen before. As far as the eye could see, the light blue sky seemed to touch the ground. It was deserted and unfamiliar. I was not a well-traveled person and I didn't know these sights. They were not the soft hills of South Carolina or the beating sun of the summer I seemed to leave behind. The sun burned a bright orange, it's red fading from what must have been a gorgeous sunrise. I sat up slowly, the remains of my hangover trickling still from my system. Slowly, I stood, wrapping the light sweater I wore tighter around my torso as the wind whipped fiercely across my body in a cold foreign to South Carolina summers. In fact, it didn't seem like summer at all. In the distance I saw trees whose leaves were browning and falling to the ground. The abundance of pines were even shedding brown needles to their feet.

My denim shorts and tank top below my sweater did nothing for the chill and looking at the dirt terrain I thanked God that I was at least wearing socks and sneakers. I turned in a circle, taking in the breathless view of the plains around me, praying for a view that was not of blue sky meeting green-brown earth. There were no lights in the distance, no signs of life. There was barely even the sounds of nature and animals in the air. There was nowhere for me to go that made any remote sense. I felt a sense of panic, to curl up into a ball and wait for someone to find me there, but I knew that would do no good. There weren't even roads to follow and who knew how long it would take someone to find me. So I made a plan. It wasn't that good of a plan, I just started walking. But it was the only idea I had to get my hands on a cell phone and find my way home. My friends were going to pay for this, bringing me wherever they had brought me. It wasn't even funny anymore. In truth, it never really was but I was willing to forgive them for a slight prank, but this was too far.

My legs were perpetually goose-bumped from the chill in the air and I had no shelter or even warmer clothes to wrap myself in. Finding someone was imperative to surviving whatever had happened to me. I walked for what seemed like some time, the cold tearing into my skin. I kept my hands clasped in the pocket of my hoodie, continuously rubbing them together, but it did no good. Soon, the chances of producing any kind of friction heat was gone. There was no one around. The only sounds were the occasional caw of a bird or the whip of the wind. There were no roads or trails, just parts of the earth that seemed more worn than others. This was what I followed, the beaten ground. I walked and walked until I came upon my first clue. A glare from the sun emitted off of something embedded in the ground ahead of me and I ran to it when it caught my gaze. It was something iron and I had to dig it from the ground grabbing a small stick and pulling the thing from the earth. It was a horseshoe. I didn't know too much about horses. I worked on a facility that housed them so I knew how to behave around them, but the only thing I knew about how to care for them was what I had learned from my friends who worked in the barn. I was pretty sure horseshoes didn't just fall off, but this one was worn to bits. It almost wasn't even a shoe anymore, just a curved piece of iron. It was useless to me, though and I tossed it back to the ground and continued my journey.

Walking brought me to an incline. I had told myself I would stay in the valley, but the plains were no longer curving into a valley, just a hill. Beyond that hill, I finally heard voices. So I climbed, and that's where my story really began.

At the peak of the incline I finally found, what at first I assumed, was help. A group of people were at the land below me, but it wasn't just people. They all rode atop horses, but it wasn't the horses or the size of the group in the middle of nowhere that scared me. It was the fact that they were all in armor and carrying weapons. Not like bulletproof vests and guns, but armor and weapons of the middle ages. Spears and swords, helmets with plumes of hair protruding from the top. I looked around me frantically, for somewhere to hide, but the trees were scarce. I turned around instead and started moving back down the hill i had trudged up, hearing their voices in the distance, but unable to make out what they were saying. I was too far away. It didn't matter, though. Whatever these guys were, I didn't need to get mixed up in it. One thing was for sure, though. I knew there was no way I was in North Carolina or Tennessee. There weren't permits issued for groups of horses that size outside of pastures and I couldn't have been inside a pasture. It was much too large. I would have at least heard of a pasture this large from my coworkers back home. Then the panic set in and I couldn't walk anymore. I had to run. I bolted back in the direction I had come from.

I didn't make it far before my breath caught up with me. I slowed my pace to catch my breath, but I was too quick and I tumbled into the dirt, scraping my bare legs on the rocks there. I winced and inspected my skin. It wasn't too bad. Luckily I hadn't broken a leg and I gently stood back up, my breath still catching and my heart still racing. I started walking again, but it didn't last for long. Twenty paces further and I heard the galloping of horse hooves behind me. Instinctually, I turned around, finding two horses headed straight for me, each helmed by a rider, both with thick, metal armor and helmets adorned with what looked like the tails of horses as plumbs. The adrenaline kicked in and I tried to run again, but there was no way I could outrun a horse. Eventually, they caught me and cut off my route with their beasts. The shock of their speed sent me falling to the ground.

Close up, I realized that these weren't regular horses. One was a chestnut and the other a light gray color. I wasn't proficient enough to name its type. These horses were large, much larger than the stables at the camp where I worked back home. And there was something...mean about them. Fierce and wild.

But the horses were nothing compared to the riders atop them. Both had light eyes that I could see beneath their helmets and strands of long, blond hair that peeked out as well. But their size...if the horses were larger than normal, these men were nothing in comparison. They were two large dudes, ready for whatever those swords and spears were used for. The one on the right dismounted his horse and started to reach toward me, speaking in a language I did not understand. The one still atop his horse spoke next, but to the first man, not me. I couldn't even assume to know what they spoke of. It was a harsh language. Guttural and low from the back of their throats. Their first one responded to the second, then turned back to me, his eyes kinder now. He spoke again and removed this glove, holding out a bare hand for me to take, but I couldn't. My eyes darted between his face and his hand, not wanting to provoke him.

He spoke a second time and bent closer to my level. I still did nothing and it seemed to click that I couldn't speak his language and he changed tactics. "What about the common tongue? Do you speak that?"

I nodded, his words finally making sense. But that was the wrong thing to do. His companion jumped off of his horse and pulled the first one back from me, switching back to that ugly language. But the kind one didn't like that. He pulled himself from his companion's grasp and turned back to me. "Where do you hail from, _li_ _ðee_?"

"I…" I said, trailing off, not knowing what to say. Clearly, these people wouldn't have heard of my home.

The second man starting talking again, but the first one cut him off this time. "She isn't a Dunlending, Elfhelm. Are you, _li_ _ðee_?"

I didn't know what that meant, so it couldn't have been me. I shook my head as he bent back down to my level. He reached up to his neck and unclasped the cloak from his back. Slowly, he reached around me and draped it over my shoulders. It wasn't warm, not having laid against his metal armor in this whipping wind, but I savored coverage, nonetheless, pulling my legs up to my chest and wrapping it around my freezing limbs. "How long have you been lost in the Mark?" he asked.

The truth was a few hours, but I guess that wouldn't have really made any sense. So, once again, I kept my mouth shut.

I thought he would grow as irritated as his companion, but he didn't. He shifted his weight from one boot to the other and let out a gentle sigh. "Alright, how about names then? This is Grimbon and I am Eothain. Who are you?"

That one I could answer. "Mallory," I muttered in a near whisper, hoping that Grimbon's actions toward me wouldn't reflect the look he gave me now.

But Eothain smiled gently. "Your legs are scratched, Mallory. Where are your skirts?"

Skirts? I hated skirts. I figured out by now that I had landed in some kind of medieval pastime. Maybe I had time-traveled to an ancient European dominion where women covered their legs and ankles were sexy. He noticed my confusion again and Grimbon was losing patience. Eothain closed his eyes and took in a breath, standing and conversing with his companion again in that language. They spoke for a few minutes, Grimbon growing more and more irritated as the conversation continued, but I kept my trap shut. When the conversation was over, Eothain knelt back down to me. "We are a few leagues away from any villages. In these troubled times, Grimbon is weary to trust anyone, but he wonders how you traveled so far with no supplied or even clothes in late February. Winter draws nearer, and a chill is in the air."

"I...can't explain," I said.

"Why not?"

"I don't have the answers."

He raised an eyebrow and turned back to Grimbon, hopefully translating my words, but the way Grimbon's face contorted when Eothain had said his piece, his words were not received well. Grimbon grew frustrated and seemed to be arguing against whatever Eothain had said. But Eothain held up his hands in a pleading motion. Grimbon let out a huff and backed off, grabbing his horse and mounting it.

Eothain turned back to me, crouching down once again. "We are headed to Aldburg, our home, but we are still a day's ride away. You are welcome to accompany my eored and I back to our home."

"Why?" I asked, immediately wanting to take it back. This was the best chance of survival I had been given all day!

"You are in need of help," he said simply, standing and reaching toward me with his ungloved hand. And I took it, feeling his tough callouses there. He lead me to his horse, the chestnut. "This is Arrow," he said, proudly. "And he flies faster than one shot straight from a bow."

I stared blankly at the horse, not knowing what to do. I snuck a peek at Grimbon, who looked annoyed at the time we were taking. I felt Eothain release my hand and I turned back to him. "May I?" he asked, motioning towards my body. He wanted to pick me up and put me on that animal. I must have looked somewhat shocked, because he let out a guffawed laugh at my expression. "He is a beast, I know, but he will not harm you," he said gesturing again with his hands. I nodded and he picked me up from the ground as if I were a feather. He placed me on the front of the saddle facing sideways and I couldn't bring myself to pull my leg over the other side. I was still too cold. He placed his foot in the stirrup and slung himself onto Arrow. I thought the horse might jostle, but it was still and sturdy.

His armor was cold, even through the cloak and he wrapped his arms aground me to grab the reins. "Hold tight to the horn," he said. Luckily, I knew what he meant, and I reached my hand out from under the cloak to grab the saddle's horn in the front. I felt his kick the back of the horse and we were off.

If the chill from his armor wasn't enough, the wind whipped even harder as this horse bolted across the plains. My butt thumped against the saddle hard, and even holding onto the horn, I had trouble not slipping off its sleek surface. Eothain must have been able to tell, though, because he kept his arms close to my body in case I fell. He never touched me, though and for that, I was grateful. This may have been my only option, but the thought hadn't escaped me that I was a small woman and he was a very large man. Whatever self-defense I knew was thrown out the window by my limited ability to move my frozen body and the fact that he was clad in all that armor.

"I'm sorry about Grimbon," Eothain said into my ear over the wind. "He does not speak the common tongue and grows weary of travelers in Rohan."

I assumed the land I was trapped in was called Rohan. What else would he be talking about? I turned to face him for the first time and was startled by how close his face was to mine. He had a rough face, though not unhandsome. There was a scar on his right jaw line that his light-colored beard couldn't hide and he looked tired. The bags under his eyes were thick and the circles dark. There was a layer of grime on his skin from where his helmet did not cover. His eyes were blue and still held that kindness, but up close, I could see a hardness behind them. He grinned, his mouth full of crooked teeth, but they were not unclean. "Mallory is a strange name," he said.

"So is Eothain," I responded. At that, he laughed again, his eyes falling back on the ground. "We will reach my eored in a few short minutes. They will not be happy I brought an outsider back with me." My expression must have given me away again, for he instantly back peddled. "You will be safe, I promise. But I...I may have lied to Grimbon to get him to agree to letting me bring you with us."

"What did you say?"

"He thought you were a Dunlending, but I knew you didn't have the color or the look of the Wild Men. I told him you were from Dale. He conceded to that. But there are others in my eored who speak the common tongue. You won't be able to hide behind language when we get there."

"But...I don't know anything about Dale."

"You hide behind silence and fear well. I will tell them you are worn and weary. That will sway nearly everyone but my Marshal. Hopefully I can convince him to let you be for the night. We will come up with a plan later."

"Why help me?" I asked, again, cursing my mouth.

At that, he showed confusion. "You needed help. Troubling times these may be, but I wouldn't let that stop me from helping a maiden in need."

Ah, I was his damsel in distress. That made a bit more sense. I didn't like it, but I had to admit that I did need his help. Rohan, Dale, Dunlending...I didn't recognize any of these places. Perhaps I had time-traveled. Whatever the case was, this wasn't a prank by my friends and there was no way for me to cover my own ass. I needed someone willing to help me. Luckily I had him.

"Look," he said as we continued riding. "Smoke from my camp. We're nearly there." He was right. In the distance, I could see campfire smoke rising into the sky. The wind whipped it in directions that made it difficult to spot if you didn't know what you were looking for. "Remember, hide behind silence and fear. Sometimes fear can be an asset."

"Do I need to be afraid?" I asked.

He hesitated a moment before answering. "The lads in my eored are loyal to Rohan. They will do whatever they think is necessary to protect the Mark, no matter who is involved. Especially my Marshal. But I will keep you safe, Mallory. I promise."

I turned my head back to the campfire and soon I could see the sight. It was presumably the same group of riders I had run from before. Their horses were tied to spikes in the ground a short distance from the camp. There were probably about two dozen of them all sitting around fires, cots strewn about the site. A single tent stood off to the side of the site. It was made of a green material and I noticed a man walk out of the tent, his head turning straight toward Eothain and I. He was too far away to see his expression. Grimbon propelled his horse forward, passing me and Eothain, but we eventually made it into the camp. Every face turned in my direction. Most of them still wore their armor, but their helmets were all gone now. Every one of them had blond hair, save maybe two who sported light red. They could have all been brothers. They shared this look of a cohesive culture. Some expressions were curious, others angry. I had never had strangers look at me with such ferocity and I instinctively tried to hide behind Eothain's large arms that were still around me.

He dismounted at the horse's grazing area and reached to help me down. I grabbed his forearms and he gently placed me on the ground, but my legs had gone numb. When I dismounted, I realized the saddle pain in my rear end and nearly collapsed onto the ground. He caught me, though, making sure I didn't fall. "Woah there, _li_ _ðee._ " He said gently, and helped me get my footing.

Behind Eothain's shoulder, I could see the man from the tent making his way towards us. "Eothain!" he nearly shouted. That was all I could make out as he switched to the foreign language I still did not know the name of. Eothain held gently onto my arms, for which I was grateful as the feeling hadn't come back into my legs yet.

The two argued for a moment before the stranger composed himself and turned his eyes to me for the first time. "Forgive me, you don't speak Rohirric."

I looked at Eothain who nodded and let me go. I wrapped the cloak around myself again, knowing now that my shorts were basically like wearing lingerie to these men. The sun had started setting and the smells of the campfire made their way over to me. I realized that it had been over a day since I had had anything to eat and my eyes jolted to the nearest fire, an iron pot cooking something on top of it. The man followed my gaze and must have noticed what I looked for. "You must be hungry," he said. I nodded. The man took a step closer to me and I was able to get a better look at his face. His beard was thicker than Eothain's and darker. His hair was blond, but a darker shade and fell well past his shoulders, small braids keeping it pulled out of his face. He was dirty, like Eothain and all the other men. His eyes were blue as well, but they were different. While Eothain's held a sense of lightheartedness, his did little to hide his hardness. They were a dark blue. A cavern of mystery. Those eyes surveyed my own face intently and I shrunk behind Eothain, as I realized who he must be. The Marshal Eothain had mentioned. He must have been in charge of this group of warriors. An eored, Eothain had called it. This Marshal was a stranger to me, but I knew one thing: he was not a man you toyed with. The prospect of lying to this man scared me, for I didn't know what he would do if I were caught.

When I shrunk behind Eothain, however, the man backed off and his hard expression changed to one I could not read. "It's alright, Mallory," Eothain said. "This is Eomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark."

"I'm not going to hurt you, girl," the Marshal said, turning to Eothain. "She can sleep in the tent, but you'll man it for the night." He turned back to me. "We will talk in the morning. Eat, rest, and recover."

Eothain let out a breath as the Marshal walked away and towards one of the fires. "Well, that went better than one could have hoped," he said. "Come, I will walk you to the tent."

I followed him through the camp, past fires and sleeping cots and large blond warriors all the way to the tent at the edge of camp. Eothain lifted the flap. Inside was a brazier of coals heating the area, a large sleeping cot and saddlebags of supplies. "Wait here," Eothain said, closing the flap and leaving me alone. I wanted to protest, but he moved too quick. I walked to the brazier and began warming my hands which had turned white with chill. My legs and arms were perpetually goosebumped and the thought of the warm cot was tantalizing. Eothain was back almost immediately, however. In one hand he held a saddlebag and in the other a bowl of steaming food. He dropped the bad on the floor and handed me the bowl. "Eomer's squire made that. He's not a bad hunter and an even better cook. The heat from the bowl radiated onto my hands and I didn't even wait for a utensil. It was some kind of stew and I began drinking the broth almost instantly. It was bland but warm and I didn't think of much else save the stinging heat. "Woah," Eothain said, reaching forward and pulling the bowl from my face. "Slow down. You will make yourself sick." I had already nearly drained the bowl and my stomach welcomed the broth and the warmth. But I stopped, figuring that compliance would get me further than protest. He backed off and I sipped at the broth instead, watching him reach for the saddlebag. "I have no clothes that will fit you, but I do have a spare pair of trousers we can make work for the ride tomorrow. There are no spare horses in the eored so I assume you will ride with me again."

"What happens when we get to...wherever we're going."

"We are going to my home in Aldburg. I will take to to my sister. She can hopefully help you return to your home. If you ever decide to tell me where that is."

There was no way he'd believe me. "Maybe if I knew where I was, I could tell you how far away it is," I said.

"I have told you, you are in Rohan."

"Where is Rohan?" I asked.

"North of Gondor, the White City. South of Rhovanion, wherein lies Dale, the land I have told my comrades you are from." This explained nothing. I knew nothing of these lands. "You are still baffled?" he asked and I nodded, sitting down in the grassy floor of the tent. "Fear not. My sister knows more of maps and lands than I do. She will be able to help you more than I. For now, we can continue the lie. Eomer will want to question you in the morning. Tell him you are from Dale. Perhaps if you told me how you came to be in the Mark?"

"I don't know," I said, cupping my hand around the bowl. I woke up on the plains. I don't know how I got here."

"No memory at all?" I shook my head. "Very well, then. We will tell this to Eomer. No need to lie if we don't have to." He passed me a bundle of fabric from the saddlebag. Here are the trousers. Get some rest. It will be a long ride tomorrow."

With that, he left me alone again in this strange world.


	2. Chapter 2

**"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken." - Fyodor Dostoevsky**

Chapter 2

Sleep did not come easy for me. The cot, though made of thick, unknown material, did little to shield me from the cold that whipped through the plains of this strange land and I found myself huddling near the brazier, wearing the blanket from the cot around my shoulders. It smelled of hay and horse and musk. I realized that the cot must belong to the Marshal, which made me even more reluctant to sleep in it. The sounds of men outside the tent speaking in their foreign tongue kept me awake long after their talk had quieted down. Eothain did not return. I drifted between sleep and consciousness the whole night.

Dawn eventually began to peek through the floor of the tent and I couldn't sit still any longer. I grabbed the pants Eothain had brought me and pulled them up over my shorts. They were much larger than me, built for his massive size. The legs fell well past my own and the waist was like a small tent. But they were warm and I needed something to cover my legs in the company of these men. I tucked the fabric of the pants legs up so that I could walk and realized that the waist was drawstring. I pulled it tight as I could and tied a bow, tucking the excess string inside the waist. It wasn't fashion, but it was warm. I had kept the cloak on all night and for extra measure, I kept the blanket around my shoulders as well, hoping that the Marshal would not be mad at me for taking it out of the tent.

I opened the flap. Outside, the fires were barely smoking. A few men were awake, guarding the perimeter of the campsite. Eothain was seated beside the entrance of the tent, but he had drifted off and saw snoring softly. I smiled. In sleep, he looked completely harmless and his hard, scarred features were softer. Quietly as I could, I walked away from the tent. I made for a bit of overgrowth down on the plains that I could use to pee. I worried that the men guarding the site might stop me, but the one I passed did nothing. He glanced at me and them resumed his post. I hurried over to the brush and squatted, thanking God that the guards were all facing the other way. I pulled both pairs of pants back up over my butt and sighed with relief, standing to take in my surroundings. To my left, there was more of the hilly plains and to the right was the same, except I could hear the distant sounds of water. It was probably a creek or a river and all I could think about was splashing some water on my grimy face. I glanced back at the camp where the guards still hadn't moved and made my way towards the sounds of water.

It wasn't far. It rushed gently towards the southeast. I knelt down at the base of the river and cupped my hands. It was freezing, but I didn't care. It was clear and cleaner than my face. I splashed it onto my face, sending waves of chill through my skin once again. But the sun was rising and I could already tell it was going to be warmer today than the day before. I bundled up the blanket and cloak around me, closing my eyes and letting the sound of the water calm me. Here in this moment, I could imagine I was back home, on a basic camping trip. It was impossible to do that inside that stranger's tent. I let the sound of the river sway me into a light sleep.

It doesn't last long. I felt a tickling sensation on my cheek and opened my eyes to find the long face of a horse. It startled me half to death and I let out a scream, jumping back, the blanket falling from my shoulders. But my foot gets caught on the cloak trying to stand and I fall to the ground. Urging my heart to calm down, I looked back at the horse. He was dapple-gray and large, like all the rest of these strange horses and he wasn't swayed by my outburst. In fact, he walked toward me, bending down to sniff the top of my head. Gingerly, I reached up and pet his nose. It was soft as velvet. He closed his eyes and seemed to like the touch.

"He likes you," a voice said behind me and I jumped again, this time straight to my feet. But my rise was too fast and I fell towards the river. I braced myself for impact, but it never came. A hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me back into a hard body and I instinctively jumped away. It was the Marshal, Eomer, shirtless and his braided hair dripping wet. Droplets of water from his hair fell onto his shoulders and trickled down his form, which was impressive to say the least. Hard muscles and veins protruded from every angle and my eyes lingered too long for a grin soon came to his face. "Forgive me for startling you," he said. "It wasn't my intention."

The horse had made his way over to us and poked his nose at the Marshal. "Calm it, Firefoot," he said, giving his nose a pat before pushing him out of the way. He turned back to me. "He normally doesn't like strangers." I couldn't think of what to say and he just continued to stand there, me staring at his massive form. "Do I frighten you?" he asked.

In truth, everything about my current situation frightened me. Surrounded by large men all carrying medieval weapons and speaking a language I couldn't understand. But did he frighten me? In all honesty, yes, but it was more than fear. He intrigued me more than anything, so I shook my head.

"Then are you ready for me to ask you some questions? Eothain won't like that he isn't here for this, but I can't really concern myself with what he thinks right now. Who are you?"

"Mallory Gilmore," I said forcing myself to look into his eyes instead of his abs, but that was just as intimidating.

"And where do you hail from, Mallory Gilmore?"

"Dale," I said automatically.

Eomer grinned and pointed towards the direction of the rising sun. "That is east. What direction is Dale?" Eothain had told me last night, but I couldn't remember. I broke my gaze with the Marshal and stared at my feet. "Why lie? You are not a danger. One cannot falsify the fear in your eyes, Mallory Gilmore. So what had happened to you?"

"I woke up on the plains. I don't know what happened. I don't remember."

"Than what do you remember?"

I remember everyone out at my cabin. I was having a party to celebrate the end of summer and the end of the camping season. I was getting ready to close down my site, prepping for the fall. I remember downing three shots of tequila before passing out. "I was in my home. Now I am very far away," I said, praying that it would be enough.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "By Bema, you are frustrating." He ran a hand through his braided hair. He wasn't angry, per se, but he exuded a sense of irritation that shook me, nonetheless. "Wait here," he said, walking over to a jumble of rocks further down the length of the river. I watched him grab a shirt off one of the rocks and pull it over his head. He aso grabbed a sword that he bucked to his waist. He walked back over to me when he was done. He reached down and grabbed the blanket-his blanket-and handed it back to me. "Now look," he said as I wrapped it around my shoulders. "I want to help you find your way home. My men don't need a new distraction in Adburg, particularly Eothain. If you intended us harm, I am sure you would have committed it last night. So, you and I are going to have a conversation about how to accomplish that where you answer my questions with more than five syllables, can we both agree to this?"

I nodded and he raised an eyebrow. Now I may have been scared out of my wits by this guy, but that didn't mean I was going to let him talk to me as if I were a five-year-old child. "Yes, Marshal Eomer," I said, but making my annoyance known through my tone.

He seemed surprised and, for a brief moment, I thought his surprise might turn to anger, but it did no such thing. In fact, I swear the corner of his mouth started to grin. "Good. Now, where do you hail from?"

"Charleston," I said, ready to test his patience. "It's a city in the state of South Carolina in the country of the United States of America, positioned in the South East, bordering the states of Georgia and North Carolina and the Atlantic Ocean."

He looked...dumbfounded. "What is this nonsense?" he asked. "I may not be a well-traveled man, but I have studies maps of Middle-earth. These places do not exist in Arda."

"See, that's the thing," I said. "I don't think I'm from...this place. Middle-earth? Arda? Whatever. I'm from the regular Earth. The one with seven continents and five oceans."

He paused before answering. "Is this some kind of sorcery?" he asked, hesitantly.

"You tell me. I woke up about three miles from where Eothain and that other guy found me with nothing but the clothes on my back. I have never heard of your country or your language. So, do you still think you can help me, Eomer?" He looked taken aback and it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"It's just...nothing. We should get you back to the camp. The men will be waking soon. We will head to Adburg then." He started to walk back to the camp, Firefoot trailing behind him but he turned back quickly and said. "Have you spoken of these things to Eothain?"

"Not exactly. Nothing as specific as this."

"Good. Continue to tell him nothing. We will discuss this further when we reach Aldburg." He grinned at me then, giving me another graze with his eyes. "It was the blanket."

"What?"

"Firefoot. He smelled the blanket-the smell of me-on you."

With that, he continued back to the camp. And I followed not long after.

At the edge of the camp, just within sight of the river, Eothain stood, watching Eomer and I trudge up the hill to where he waited. When Eomer was close enough, Eothain spoke in that language, Rohirric, and I don't know what transpired between the two of them, but I could sense the two of them growing tenser with each word. Eothain seemed to grow frustrated while Eomer grew annoyed. Around me, the eored was beginning to pack up the camp, loading bags and supplies onto the backs of their horses which had all been released from their pegs in the ground.

When the argument was finished, Eothain walked over to me, making a noted glance at Eomer's blanket around my shoulders. "We depart soon," he said. "What did the Marshal say to you?"

I wanted to tell him the truth, but the thought of what Eomer had said, to not tell Eothain what we had discussed about my home, had me a little scared. He was a scary man after all and Eothain was not. At least, he wasn't to me. I had no doubts that he could be scary, but I didn't think he would show that side to me.

"He only asked me the same questions you had," I said.

"And what did you tell him?"

He was patronizing me and my thoughts drifted back to my realization from last night. He wanted to be the knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress. I never relied on men before in my life, so it was strange for me to be in a position where that was my only option. I had to rely on Eothain to get me back home, at least for the time being. But if my conversation with Eomer taught me something, it was that these men were the kind of men who valued a strong will over a sense of innocence and naivete. Yesterday, I had been terrified. Today...well, I was still terrified, but I was starting to see the bigger picture and the old Mallory was returning to my soul. "I told him what I needed to," I said.

Eothain did not like this answer. "I told you that you and I would discuss it on the road today."

"And I don't take orders from you," I said. His jaw physically dropped and I could see Eomer behind him, loading the rolled-up cot from inside the tent onto his horse's saddle, watching us. His face now held the same expression that it had when I had fallen into his arms by the river. A look of amusement. I heard a few men who were near us chuckle and Eothain's jaw tightened. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but could not find the words. I reached down and grabbed a saddlebag. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

* * *

She couldn't have been from Dale. A trip from Dale to Rohan would have required months of travel on a horse and she possessed nothing but the strange clothes on her back. I couldn't even fathom the trip on foot. The distance had be be nearly four thousand leagues. I had met Men from all over Middle-earth living in my uncle's house. Never had I heard a dialect like her's. It was foreign and did not belong to Men of the West or the North.

She had surprised me at first. A woman on the back of Eothain's horse, wearing the cloak off of his back. When the cloak moved with the wind, she wore nothing beneath it by way of skirts or trousers. Her skin was tanned and sun-beaten, but soft and pure of scars and wear. Her hair was brown, but when the sun caught it's glare, tints of red came out from under it's sheen. And her eyes...It would be easy to describe them as green and scared, but it was more than that. I don't think it was fear that coursed through her veins, but rather an alertness. A state at which to watch her every word, make sure she didn't say the wrong things. She was very good at it.

When I questioned her, she struck me at first as an innocent. The way her eyes grazed my form was amusing to say the least, and her initial vexation was tantalizing. Then, something changed in her. She forgot the alertness and the innocence as they escaped her and were replaced by something else. She taunted me with her tone. She answered my questions with words that sounded like riddles. And she called me Eomer...A commoner had never referred to me by my given name. Soon the tantalization of her innocence was replaced by something else...a curiosity. Where these riddle she spoke in fact, not riddles at all, but pure words of truth. I had never heard of the city she had spoken of, nor the country. The fact that she had never heard of the continent she was on now was a dire clue. She didn't lie to me.

Loading my belongings onto Firefoot, I watched her and Eothain argue. I knew he wouldn't be happy with me. I had known Eothain for many years. I would trust him with my life. But in matters the home and women, Eothain thought only with his heart and his cock. He was a man who needed to be a hero. He always had been. He tried to be her hero now and it became all too clear that she wasn't willing to reciprocate.

The men all watched the small argument. She was smart. She said very few words, but they all held an impact of steel that drowned Eothain's arguments. She silenced him with a statement and an offer of assistance and he knew not how to respond. And it amused the men so to watch it. And I am not too proud to admit that it amused me as well.

Her eyes met mine and I held the gaze. She was the one to break it, following Eothain back to his horse and hooking the bag to his saddle. Grimbon walked over to me then, holding his own horse by the reins, ready to ride. "What do you make of her?" he asked.

"I see a woman in need of help," I said, and it was true. As much as she could hold her own against Eothain, she was still lost and far from her home. I didn't know how to help her, but the first step would be to bring her back to Aldburg.

"I see a woman who makes his cock hard. I told you last night what clothes she wore when we found her were very little. I don't blame the lad, but he is careless."

"You think her a threat?"

Grimbon glanced at her, then back to me. "You don't?"

"She is a mystery, I'll not deny it."

Grimbon let out a chuckle. "A lady-puzzle you finally hold no solution for? What a day this is."

"Enough," I said, pulling my breastplate over my head and tightening the straps. "The day grows shorter. We must ride if we are to make it to Aldburg by nightfall."

He clapped my shoulder before mounting his horse, calling for the men to mount with him and ride. I saw Eothain offer a hand to Mallory to help her mount his horse, but she ignored him, stuck her foot in the stirrup and grabbed the horn of the saddle, pulling herself up and swinging a leg over. She still wore the blanket from my cot around her shoulders.

Eothain mounted behind her, reaching around her body for the reins. I squinted, watching him. Wondering if his hands would touch something that didn't belong to him. If his eyes would linger in one unforgivable place for too long.

"My lord," Grimbon said, pulling me out from my wondering mind. "The day grows short, does it not?"

I nodded, mounting Firefoot and calling out to the eored. "Forth, Eorlingas!"


	3. Chapter 3

**"To make a difference in someone's life, you don't have to be brilliant, rich , beautiful, or perfect. You just have to care." - Mandy Hale**

Chapter 3

Eothain was not happy. Maybe it was because I had made him look like a fool. I was still surrounded by men who spoke a foreign language, but I could tell they were all intrigued by what had happened back at the camp. He did not talk to me when we took off, not since I had declined his help in mounting Arrow. After the initial shock of my situation wore off, what little I knew of riding horses had come back to me. I didn't need to be lifted onto one like a doll.

"What is Aldburg like?" I asked him, the silence driving me insane. He had to know this was nothing personal, he just needed to make an attitude adjustment.

"It is a fortress in the south of Rohan, home of the Third Marshal."

"Isn't Eomer the Marshal?"

" _Lord_ Eomer," he emphasized. "Is one of three. There are three folds of the Riddermark and Lord Eomer guards the third."

"So, if Eomer is a Marshal, what does that make you?"

"I am a Rider of Rohan in service to his legion."

"He seems kind of young to have such an important title," I said, watching his back as he rode ahead of us.

"Enough of Eomer," Eothain said. "If you must talk, there are other topics."

He was annoyed and I immediately sensed that there was history there, but I knew better than to press. Plus, he was right. I didn't need to be asking a million questions about a man who had frightened, intimidated, and taunted me all within the span of fifteen minutes. "Tell me about Aldburg."

"I have lived there all my life. I live with my sister in the village. It is the second largest village in the Mark, behind Edoras, of course."

"Is that...the capital?" I asked.

"Yes. Home to the King and the Golden Hall of Meduseld."

"So, you're ruled by a monarchy?"

"Yes," he said, slightly confused. "It is a standard practice of government." I chose not to question it further and he continued. "We can find you help in reading a map when we arrive."

"Why would I need help reading a map?"

"Can...can you read?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, I can read."

"Strange. There aren't many common folk who read the written word. I'd say less than half of this eored can. Who taught you to read?"

"I learned in school," I said. "Don't you have schools here?"

He shook his head. "Not sure what a school is, Mallory."

"You go there to learn things. Math, science, reading."

"One can learn all that they need to from daily work. There's no need for an institution."

"Right," I said, affected by his words. When I wasn't running the campsite over summer vacation, I was an elementary school teacher. Thinking about that reminded me of the looming school year I had left behind. Had someone realized I had gone missing? What would happen to my job if I never came back?

"What silences you all of a sudden?" he asked.

"Thinking about home," I muttered.

"I wish you would tell me where you are from so that I might help you get back."

I thought back to my conversation with Eomer that morning. "I don't think anyone can help me get back."

"That is a very grim outlook. Wait until we reach Aldburg and obtain some maps."

I nodded, letting out a yawn and attempting to stretch my back without bothering his arms holding the reins.

"You must still be tired, you woke up so early," Eothain said. "You are welcome to take a nap, if you wish. Bema knows it is much warmer today than yesterday and you now have supplies to keep you warm."

"I don't want to fall off."

"Do not worry, Mallory. I wouldn't let you fall."

I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to continue conversation, to take in any information about the place I was traveling to that could possibly aid me in covering up my true identity, but my eyes fogged over at the mere sight of the basic plains and large horsemen around me and before I could protest again, my eyes closed and I leaned back into Eothain, falling to sleep.

* * *

I woke to a cry of "Woah," as Arrow thrusted me backwards in a stop. My back was stiff from leaning against Eothain and his armor and my ass hurt like hell from the saddle. "Was goin on?" I said groggily.

Eothain steadied me upright and jumped off Arrow's back. "We are taking a short rest for the horses. They need water." He reached up to help me off the horse, but I shook my head, swinging my leg over and hitting the ground with pins and needles in my feet. I took a good stretch, Eomer's blanket falling off of my shoulders. I bent over to pick it up, and something patted me on the back as I bent. It was Eomer's horse, Firefoot.

"Hello again," I said, giving his soft nose another pat.

"Seems he just can't stay away from you," Eomer said, walking over to me, his helmet in one arm, his other resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

I didn't know what to say. I realized that in the warmer weather I didn't need both his blanket and Eothain's cloak and I still clutched it tightly with both of my hands. I started folding it. "I shouldn't have kept this. It belongs to you."

He reached over with a gloved hand, stopping mine from folding. "Keep it. I have plenty of blankets."

His hand rested on my wrist and I thought back to my conversation with Eothain from earlier. "So, I was wondering something," I said.

He removed his hand and sat down on the grass, watching the horses head off towards the pond we had stopped beside. "And what might that be?"

"Eothain says you're a lord, but you're also a Marshal. Are those the same thing, or…?"

"I am Third Marshal to the Riddermark, like my father before me. That makes me lord of Aldburg."

I sat down next to him, the blanket still balled up in my hands. "So, all Marshals are lords, then?"

"Yes, though I would still be a lord without the title of Marshal."

"What, are you royalty or something?" I said sarcastically.

"My grandfather was Thengel King, ruler before my uncle, Theoden, who sits on the throne in Edoras presently."

My jaw nearly dropped. "Your uncle is the king?" He nodded. "Well, doesn't that make you, like, super important?"

He laughed. It was the first time I had genuinely heard him laugh and it was surprisingly...nice. He had such a hard, intimidating exterior and it was comforting to know that there was actually a person behind that hard face and armor. "Hardly, Mallory. I barely see the halls of Edoras these days. My sister Eowyn assists my uncle now. My cousin Theodred, the prince, serves as Second Marshal in the West-mark. I wouldn't be of much use in Meduseld's walls. My talents lie in the East-mark."

When he talked of these people, not only did he do it with a smile, but his voice softened. "You must love them very much," I said.

"There is little in the world more important than family." He paused and glanced at me briefly before continuing. "What of your family?"

"Don't really have one," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest. "My dad left my mom when I was very young. She died when I was seventeen. I lived with my aunt after that, but it never really felt like home."

"My mother died when I was very young," he said. He looked for a moment as if he wanted to continue, but shook his head instead, nodding towards the men in his eored. "We best not test Eothain's patience much longer. He stares so intently at us."

He was right. The Rider watched us in the crowd of soldiers, but he wasn't the only one. In fact, most of the men were glancing up at the two of us, sitting on the ridge. But Eothain was the only one whose gaze didn't waver. Eomer stood and walked away towards Firefoot and I watched him retreat, patting his stallion on the neck and mounting him.

As if it was a cue, the other men retrieved their horses and followed. Eothain had Arrow by the reins and led him towards me as I stood up, pulling the blanket back over my shoulders. "What did the Marshal have to say?"

"Just conversation," I said, pulling myself onto Arrow. "Do you not like him?"

Eothain looked surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"You get so angry every time he speaks to me."

He shook his head. "Eomer and I have known each other since childhood. He is like a brother to me and I know him well."

"That doesn't answer my question," I said as he mounted behind me.

He shook his head. "That is not a matter for now, Mallory."

I made little attempt at conversation for the next few hours. We passed plain after plain, grassy field after grassy field. The sights didn't change. The weather held out as well, not enough for me to get comfortably warm, but I wasn't cold, which was a bonus. Even as the sun fell in the sky, the weather held.

I noticed Arrow start to fall behind the rest of the group. "Is he okay?" I asked.

"He is tired. He carries more weight than he is used to."

"Should he rest?"

"We are not far from Aldburg now. Perhaps twenty leagues. He will make it."

"Will he?" another rider asked, falling back beside us. It was Eomer. "You fall behind, Eothain."

"I am fine, my lord," he said. I noticed his hands grip the reins tighter.

"It is your steed I worry for, not you. The girl can ride with me for the remainder of the way."

"'The girl' has a name, thank you," I said.

"She is fine where she is, my lord," Eothain said, ignoring me. "Arrow will make it."

"Mallory," Eomer said. "What say you? Do you think the horse too tired?"

I couldn't deny that with every word we spoke, Arrow got slower and slower, falling further away from the group. But I didn't like the way he was pitting me against Eothain. "Eothain says it is not far. If the horse falls a little behind, we'll still make it."

Eomer's expression changed very little. "Very well," he said, pushing back to the front of the group.

We did fall further behind and Eothain seemed much more inclined to talk to me now. This back and forth stuff between him and Eomer had to end. I had a feeling that when we reached Aldburg, however, that Eomer would have better things to occupy his time than me.

"I've been thinking about how to help you get home, Mallory," he said.

"I thought we were going to look at maps."

"Well, I suppose that should be step one, and if we find your home there, all the better, but...if we cannot, there are beings in Middle-earth that posses magic."

"Magic?" I asked, remembering Eomer's earlier comment about my coming here. He asked if it was sorcery. "Is...that safe?

"There are beings in Middle-earth that can help you. They travel through the Mark on occasion. They are associates of the king. Perhaps, next they travel through, we ask for their aid."

"When will that be?" I asked. "Who are they?"

"I know not when they will next set foot in the Mark. Saruman the White and Gandalf the Grey are their names. Saruman resides in Isengard, about four hundred leagues from Aldburg. I know not where Gandalf resides. He is a traveler and is hard to track. But given the chance, I am sure they would help you."

"What makes them so special?"

"They are the Wizards of Middle-earth. They aid Men and their cause when needed."

"Wizards?" she asked, confused. "Like, real Wizards?" he nodded. "Well, is there any way to contact them?"

"The roads to Isengard are not safe. Orcs and Uruk-hai flood the roads to the north. Saruman's aid may be a lost cause. But Gandalf travels the world so intently and he is hard to mistake. He was here in September. The king gifted him a horse and sent him out of Rohan. If word reaches me that he has arrived in the Mark again, I will ride to him myself."

"And in the meantime?" she said.

He paused, thinking. "Perhaps we keep this conversation between the two of us. The people are not taken with sorcery at this time of late."

"Is sorcery bad?"

"I suppose it depends on who wields it," he said. "In the past, Saruman has been a great aid to the Sons of Eorl. Gandalf is a good friend to the king and I hear has a soft spot for Men in need of help. With his dismissal from Meduseld, Gandalf is not seen as much of a friend these days, but I do not believe that means his magic is bad. Many in the realm suspect Saruman to be the one sending Orcs from Isengard, but there is no proof. None yet, anyway. I find it hard to believe that a Wizard who has aided Men for so long would simply just turn to the enemy."

"Who is the enemy?" I asked. "What exactly are these troubling times you guys are fighting in?"

"That is a long and complicated story. More myth and legend than truth. But recently, our lands have been plagued by attacking Orcs and Uruk-hai. Prince Theodred, the Second Marshal who resides in the Hornburg, receives them the most, as he is nearest the Gap of Rohan and the Fords of Isen. Eomer has us ride to the Gap when his cousin calls for aid, which is often these days."

Most of this was gibberish to me. The locations and places he mentioned. I didn't know what the Fords of Isen where. I recognized Theodred's name from speaking with Eomer earlier. "What are Orcs and Uruk-hai?" I asked.

"You have never heard of the Fell Creatures?" he asked. "They are servants of the Shadow that lies in Mordor, where evil runs rampant."

"Where evil runs rampant?" I repeated sarcastically.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "But we needn't talk of such things now. We are nearly there."

Over the ridge we road on, I could see the top of the fortress peak over the ground and it soon came into view. The rest of the eored made their way through the gates but Eothain had Arrow take his sweet time.

It was large. Really large and surrounded by a stone wall, creating the fortress. Pillars stood higher than the wall, overlooking the vast empty plains of Rohan. I couldn't see inside, but I was immensely curious.

"Here we go," Eothain muttered, leading Arrow down the hill and through the gate.

Most of the eored had already passed through the gates and were greeted by the people who were scattered about the town. There were houses, shops, crops, and everything in between. It was large, at least larger than I had pictured in my head. At the base of the fortress was a large...well I didn't really know what to call it other than a small castle. That must have been Eomer's home as I saw Firefoot being led off to stables to the side of the castle.

"Eothain!" a voice shouted, running up to us from the crowds of people. She spoke fast in Rohirric and Eothain jumped off of Arrow's back, grabbing a young blonde woman into a hug. He turned her toward me when they were done. "Mallory, this is my sister, Frida."

I jumped off Arrow's back, doing my best not to collapse under my sleeping feet and held out my hand. "Nice you meet you."

I expected her to shake, but she grabbed my forearm with her own and grasped tightly. " _Wilcume_ , Mallory." She glanced at my-or rather Eothain's-trousers and turned back to her brother, snapping at him in Rohirric. He held up his hands in a defensive motion and she backed off. She noticed my blank stares at the two of them and smiled gently. "You don't speak a word of Rohirric?" I shook my head. "I am not best at speaking Common Tongue, but we shall try, yes?" said and I smiled back, nodding. "Now, come with me, _nífara_ , we shall get you clothes.

She grabbed my hand and started walking me towards a cluster of houses off to the side of what smelled like and herb garden. "Isn't he coming with us?" I asked as she pulled me through the grass.

"Eothain? No, he must...tack his horse? Is that right?"

"Close enough," I said as she led me into one of the larger houses. It was...basic. There was a wood floor with wooden walls. This front room held wooden furniture and a fireplace. There were cabinets and trunks for storage and there was a table with multiple bowls and plants on it.

"Come," she said, walking through a door. It was a bedroom with more cabinets and trunks. The fireplace from the front room was also seen through this room and the chimney seemed to be the only thing made out of stone. "Eothain say he found you out in the plains?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered as she rummaged through a trunk.

"What brings _nífara_ to the plains? _Nífara_ is not from the Mark."

I assumed she meant me. "I am lost with no memory of how I came to be in the Mark," I said.

"And my kind-heart brother say he will take you back to your home?"

"No," I said. "I'll find my own way back...if I can find a way."

She pulled out two garments, one a blue dress and the other a brown tunic. "Here. Dress too big, but vest we can tighten. I make food while you change, yes?"

"Thank you," I said, taking the clothes. I honestly hadn't expected her to be this nice to me. I was shocked that literally anyone was being as nice as these Rohirrim. Just giving me clothes and food. I pulled off my clothes, the ones I had borrowed from Eothain and the ones I had come here in. They were gross and tarnished. I noticed the stitching on the dresses was no where near as fine and the machine-made clothes I had arrived in. It was probably best no one inspect them too closely. They would probably seem bazaar.

The clothes Frida had given me were rough to the touch, but sturdy. She was right. The dress was too big, but the vest was easy to tighten with straps on the side. I had no mirror to inspect myself with, so I bundled up the clothes in Eomer's blanket, hoping she wouldn't ask to see them. I folded Eothain's pants and cloak and carried them as well back into the main room.

"There we go," Frida said, bringing a pot over to the fire and setting it on a grate. "Food will be warm soon."

"Thank you," I said again, standing there awkwardly.

Frida smiled. "Eothain says to take care of you. Says you need place to sleep." She nodded toward another door leading out of the room. "I am healer in Aldburg. Other room is for people I help. Eothain lives in the Barracks. You can stay there until you find a way home, yes?"

She gestured to one of the chairs and I sat down, placing my few belongings beside me. I struggled to find words other than "thank you," to express my gratitude.

"You have something to say?" she asked.

"I just...I don't know what to say. This is so generous. I've only just met you and you're taking me in, giving me a place to stay…"

"We are Eorlingas," she said proudly. "We do not ignore those who need help."

"I just...I don't know how to repay you."

She smiled. "Eored comes back from patrol often hurt. You can help me with the men?"

I smiled back. "I think that could work."

"Good. I take you to see maps in the morning. If we find your home, we plan for you to return. Tonight, you sleep. Recover from your journey."

She fed me dinner, a simple meal of bread, cooked veggies, and some kind of tough meat. I didn't ask what it was. She lead me into the other room when we were done. There wasn't much in there. Two beds, each made up. I assumed this was the place people came when they were sick. That didn't do me much comfort, but I was too tired to care. My body was so stiff from my time on the plains, sleeping against Eothain's armor, riding a horse for an entire day. I nearly collapsed on the bed after setting my things on the floor. It wasn't all that comfortable and I had a feeling the mattress was stuffed with hay, but it felt like a cloud compared to where I had been sleeping of late. I turned over onto my back and caught a glimpse of Eomer's blanket on the floor. I reached over and grabbed it, spreading it over my body, taking in its warmth before falling into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**"It's the will, not the skill."- Unknown**

Chapter 4

When I woke up the next morning, Frida wasn't there. I cracked open the door and peeked into the main room, but it was abandoned. I didn't know what time it was, but it couldn't have been that late in the day. It was cold again, though, with no flames burning in the fireplace. I shivered, thinking to put the cloak Eothain had given me back on, but I had folded it up to return to him. Eomer's blanket was spread over the bed. That had been given to me and was not for returning so I spread that over my shoulders instead, still warm from my sleep. I had slept in the clothes Frida had given me yesterday, but I figured no one here would mind the wrinkles. There was no mirror to check my hair and face. I had no soap to wash it anyway, let alone running water. I took a deep breath and walked into the main room. Her bedroom door was ajar and she was not there either.

I was baffled. I would have never let a complete stranger sleep in my house then leave them there by themselves. I waited maybe two minutes before the waiting made me crazy, then I walked out the front door.

It was morning still, the sun was low in the sky and mist still clung to the grass, but the small town was already bustling. I could see women tending gardens outside their houses with children scattered around the place playing games. Men were scarcely seen, though, but the few I could make out were elderly. I looked around the town for Frida-I could see almost all of it from here-but I couldn't find her. So I walked.

When I left Frida's front yard, eyes all turned in my direction as I passed. Words spoken in that strange language of Rohirric echoed in my ears. I felt my stomach churn and my face burn red at the unwanted attention, but I didn't back down. I continued to walk down the path but I soon realized I had nowhere to go.

If Frida couldn't be found, there was always Eothain. Frida had said he lived in the barracks. I didn't know where that was, but it was such a small town, I was certain if I wandered long enough I would find it eventually.

People continued to stare at me as I walked through their town, their whispers following me. A small part of me was glad that I didn't know what they were saying, though. I knew whatever it was couldn't have been that good. I imagined most of these women in town were wives to the men in the eored that I had traveled with. Perhaps their husbands had spoken of me. My strange attire and accent that they could not recognize. Not to mention the fact that these people were dealing with some kind of trouble, at least the eored was. They probably needed some kind of hot gossip like me to distract them.

The road brought me to what I imagined was the center of town. Nothing here looked like a barracks. Mostly small houses or possibly shops were there and yet another barn. A larger building stood there as well, but I couldn't tell you what it was. Through the window, I could see multiple tables and three chimneys protruded from its roof. I concluded it was some kind of tavern, not yet open for today's business and I looked for a path to continue my journey.

The small castle from yesterday that I had deduced was Eomer's home was the only other notable landmark I could see and I figured it couldn't hurt to explore down there. So I headed in that direction, noting the large wooden building that stood beside it. Perhaps that was the barracks.

I was far enough away from villagers now, so my anxiety levels started to even out. I could hear the clanging of swords in the large building as I approached and figured I had guessed right. I didn't want to disturb anyone and draw more attention to myself and I spotted horses grazing in a pasture beside the barracks. I made my way over there, watching them graze inside a wooden fence. This area of the fortress was basically one large field of grass. I could make out the edge of the wall in the distance and the pasture seemed to reach its length, giving these horses plenty of space to graze. There were so many bars in town, I wondered where they all grazed if these were the eored's horses.

I tried to spot Arrow in the field, but there were so many chestnuts. I counted seven. It was hard to distinct him from the others. Firefoot, however, was easily spotted, his stormy spotted coat standing out in the crowd. Among the rest, unsaddled by his tack, there was something different about him. He wasn't bigger or stronger, but he seemed to almost glow in the rising sunlight. I don't know how long I stood there, watching the horses go about their lazy day, but the sun continued to rise and the air grew warmer. Not warm enough for me to take off the blanket, but eventually I stopped shivering. The grass was too dewy to sit down upon, so I stood, the wind casually lifting the edge of my skirt and the blanket in small ripples.

"What are you thinking about?" a voice asked, causing me to jump right out of my skin. I turned around and found Eomer there, wearing his armor and sweat pouring down his face despite the chill in the air. I tried to catch my breath to answer his question, but I must have taken too long. "I didn't mean to startle you, yet again. I am sorry, Mallory."

"It's fine," I said, willing my heart rate to slow back down.

"It's fine?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You don't mind getting the wind knocked out of you?"

"What I mean is, I forgive you," I said through steady breathing. He stood there for a moment in silence, seemingly waiting on me. "What?"

"I asked what you were thinking. You were staring so intently at the horses."

I had been wondering about Firefoot's coat, but I didn't want to sound stupid. "I was...thinking about home."

He nodded. "Yes, your strange home not of this world. When we arrived last night I poured over a map of mine that hangs in my study. The places you named? They do not exist here."

"That doesn't surprise me, honestly."

He walked up beside me, leaning against the fence. "So have you given any thought as to how you might return?"

"Eothain mentioned something about Wizards? They had strange names."

His eyes grew instantly dark and his shoulders tensed up. "Mallory, you must promise me you will stay away from the Wizards."

"So they are bad?" I asked, getting even more confused.

"Saruman the White has poisoned these lands. The Orcs and Uruks that attack my cousin in near the Isen, they are creatures acting on his bidding. He is evil and dangerous."

"Why would Eothain tell me about him if he were dangerous."

"Eothain does not quite understand the lengths of these troubles," he said, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Most of the men in my eored do not. I receive correspondence from my cousin often and he informs me that the Orcs have begun wearing the sigil of Saruman. They are his creatures and he has decided they will attack my land and my people. As for Gandalf Greyhelm, he has been banished from the lands by the king. He never visits with tidings. Only warnings of ill news. My uncle has forsaken his judgement and advice."

"What is this war really about?" I asked. "I keep asking and no one will tell me."

"It is a long and strenuous tale, Mallory. Some of which may just be magic and fiction. Stories told to children in the night to scare them."

"Will you tell me?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps some other time. I came because Frida is looking for you. She was summoned to the barracks before you woke to treat one of my riders. I saw you standing out here and I came to fetch you."

"I shouldn't have left her house."

"Why not?" he asked. "You are not a prisoner here, Mallory. We have offered you shelter and you do well to utilize it."

I smiled. "Thank you. That does make me feel a little better."

His eyes met mine and I held their gaze, determined for once, not to be the one to break it. And I succeeded. He bowed his head and motioned toward the barracks. "She waits for you there."

With that, he opened the gate to the pasture and went inside. I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to stay and watch him pet his horse. He was the one thing in this world that seemed to bring me comfort, as intimidating and imposing as he was. But he continued to walk away, as much as I didn't want him to.

I walked toward the barracks, ignoring the dew of the morning lingering on my ankles and the hem of this dress. It was a short walk and I soon found a door that led inside. The smell was awful. I honestly couldn't describe it, but it stung my nose and made my eyes water.

In the room I had entered, there were women all around and giant strips of thick, wet fabric hung from the ceilings or lay across large, slanted wooden planks. The women were brushing down the fabrics with different tools. Tanning, I figured it was. Turning cattle skin into leather.

A woman approached me and began speaking in Rohirric and I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." Every head shot up in that room towards my direction and it was like I was back in town, everyone staring at me. But Eomer had said I was a guest and I had nothing to fear. "I'm looking for Frieda," I said, meeting eyes with everyone in the room, determined to not let their curiosity get to me.

Another woman stood and approached me, grabbing my hand and smiling. "Frieda," she repeated, and pulled me out of the large room and into another corridor. Her hand was rough and calloused, much like everyone else's. My hands were soft in comparison. I was a teacher. The only callouses I had on my hands were from holding a pencil for too long against a finger. These were strong people, their occupations more laborious than mine. As she led me down the corridor, I noticed her upper arms. She was strong, probably from pushing those wooden rods across that hard animal skin.

She stopped at a door, knocking and opening it gently, speaking softly through the crack in Rohirric. I heard Frieda's voice respond and the woman turned back to me, pushing me through the door and shutting it behind me. Eomer's blanket was still wrapped around my shoulders and i grasped it tight as I saw what was behind the door.

A young man lay in a cot inside this sweltering room. I had spent the whole morning cold on the plains of this land and now, I was breaking into a sweat as a fire burned hot through a fireplace. Sweat poured off of his face, yet he seemed to be shivering under the thick blankets, but that isn't why I clutched at my own. His leg was exposed and it was bad. Twisted and mangled, turning black with rot, it was probably the grossest thing I had ever seen and I choked down bile that threatened to come up with this new sight.

"Mallory, _nífara,_ you are...white? The color gone from your face," Frieda said, standing up from the man's side and coming to my own.

"Why is it so hot in here?" I asked, pulling the blanket off and turning around.

"To sweat out his disease," she said. "Come. Get away from this room." She opened the door and pushed me out.

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"He was stepped on by a horse. His leg is gone. We remove it today." She said this so matter-of-factly.

"Do you do this a lot?"

"I am healer, _nífara._ I do what I need to so that my people live."

She was so steady. So accepting of the fact that she was to remove this man's leg. I leaned against the wooden wall, happy to be out of the sweltering room. I looked over at Frieda, still in awe of her steadiness. "Eomer said you were looking for me."

"Yes. You said you would help in healing." She nodded back at the door. "But now I think that too much for you."

"I wasn't expecting to remove a man's leg first thing in the morning."

She nodded. "Healing is...messy. Maybe too messy for _nífara._ "

"Is it always this messy?"

"Some sicknesses are weak and easy. But these days Rohan sees more of the messy things than of my past."

"Then maybe it is too messy for me. But I still don't want to be a burden."

" _Nífara_ is no burden on me or Eothain. But we will find something for you, Mallory. What do you do in your homeland?"

I had mentioned school to Eothain and he had had no idea what I was talking about. Frieda probably wouldn't understand what a teacher was if they didn't have schools in Rohan, so I said the next closest thing. "I take care of children."

Frieda nodded. "With many father's gone and wives aiding in the needs of the war, the children of Aldburg do need guidance. But I fear you would be little help without speaking Rohirric."

"That's what I figured."

"So, you must learn!"


	5. Chapter 5

**"I believe the only true religion consists of having a good heart." - The Dalai Lama**

Chapter 5

It's kind of amazing how fast you can learn a language when you're completely surrounded by it. I almost flunked out of undergrad after I struggled so hard trying to pass French. Why an elementary school teacher needs to know French in America was beyond me, but had I studied it in France, I'm certain I would have passed with flying colors.

To help me learn, Frieda emersed me in chores, sending me all over the town, integrating me into her society. I learned nouns, verbs, and adjectives the fastest and soon picked up the conjugation techniques. My speech was probably more broken then her common tongue, but that hardly mattered. The townspeople were weary of me at first, but as I learned their language over the next month, they were not so skittish around me. They exchanged smiles with me as I passed them on the streets. They learned my name and I their's.

I learned many things. Currency, trade, cooking techniques. But what I learned the most of was horses. These were a people who prided themselves on their horses. They bred horses for survival. Most of the meat they ate was horse. They drank horse milk. Horses aided them in their daily lives and they were as reliant on them as they were the sun and rain for their crops. Everyone here had an understanding of how to ride and tack a horse. Everyone, it seemed, owned at least one horse for their family. It wasn't a luxury, it was a way of life and it was the one thing I lacked in integrating with this society. Eothain's visit on an overcast day would soon change that, though.

"You are looking well," he said in common tongue, walking up to his sister's garden and leaning against the gate.

I switched to Rohirric, looking up from the plants. "And sounding even better."

He chuckled, continuing in my native language. "You have come a long way, I must say."

I had been picking rosemary in Frieda's garden to help her mix a salve. I grabbed my basket, almost full, and exited, closing the gate behind me. "I am learning and improving every day."

"I can tell, and it is most exciting."

We stood there, and I was unsure of what to say next. It had been two weeks since a summons had come for the eored to ride to aid Eomer's cousin in another Orc attack. "How was your trip?" I asked, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer.

He let out a large sigh. "Theodred Prince fairs unwell at the Hornburg. Orcs attack from the Gap of Rohan too often. He loses more men every time they enter territory. More wives without husbands, more children without fathers. These attacks continue and Theoden King does nothing from Edoras."

"What about Eomer?" I asked. I had not spoken to him since that day he came to fetch me from the pasture. I had seen him, though, and every time, the dark circles and bags under his eyes became more pronounced, as if they were becoming a part of his permanent skin.

"Lord Eomer fairs as best as to be expected. But he is not what I came to talk to you about."

"I thought you had just come to say hello after returning from the Hornburg?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you would like to go for a ride? There is a mare in the stables that I have been asked to take out for some exercise."

I shook my head. "I'm too busy. Frieda needs the garden trimmed and I promised to fetch some things from town-"

"Frieda said to give you the day off. You've been working so hard, she says you deserve it."

A day off was a luxury in this place, I had come to see. Everyday work was enough to keep the people busy from dawn until dusk. The one thing they could make time for was their horses. And I couldn't lie and say it wouldn't be nice to spend some time with a person who spoke my language. "Alright, then," I agreed, running into the house and grabbing an overcoat and the blanket Eomer had given me just over a month ago

Back outside, the sky grew ominous. "Are you sure we should ride in this weather?"

"No thunder sounds and a little rain never hurt anyone. Come, Mallory. You are in serious need of a break."

I smiled and followed him. At the gate of the city, a young boy waited for us, a chestnut horse with a black mane and tail waited. "Mallory, may I present Neidr."

"Jumper," I translated, walking up to the horse and stroking her nose. "Helo ceffyl da."

Eothain took the reins from the young squire and chuckled. "Good friends you two will be. I can already see it."

"Where are we going?" I asked as the gate started to open.

"Not far. Perhaps over a few ridges. She is almost old enough to join the eored. Her breeder wanted to see how she would fair beyond the pasture. If she can carry both of us, she will serve any rider well."

I was happy when he didn't offer to help me onto her saddle. Very glad we broke that stupid habit. He pulled himself up behind me and grabbed the reins, sending her running down the hill. At the base of the hill, he slowed her down. "How are you, Mallory?" he asked.

I smiled, even though I didn't feel like it and he couldn't see me. Smiling was how I attempted to cope with my situation. "I'm taking it day by day."

"There has been no word from Gandalf Greyhelm, nor Saruman the White. I had hoped Edoras would have heard from it's Wizard advisors by now, especially with the fights in Rohan becoming ever more frequent and deadly."

I remembered what Eomer had told me on my first morning in Aldburg. That Saruman was the one commanding and sending the Orcs to attack his cousin at the Hornburg and that Eothain didn't know anything about that. I wondered why that was. "Eothain, why do the Orcs attack?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do they fight for? What benefits them from killing Men of Rohan?"

"Orcs do not care about benefit. They kill because that is their nature. Melkor made it so."

"Who is Melkor?"

"You have never heard of Melkor?"

"I'm not from this land, Eothain. There are many things I haven't heard of."

"Melkor was the fallen Ainur. The only child of Eru Iluvatar to fall"

"You basically spoke gibberish to me just now."

"This will be a tale, then," he said, hopping off of Neidr and walking beside her, reins in his hands. "Eru Iluvatar was the creator of this world. The greatest of beings and the first of beings. At one point, the only being. He created fifteen Valar, with whom he created the world."

"So, Eru Iluvatar is...God?"

"I believe there are some countries that call Eru and the Valar gods, but as I understand it, "god" is a term one would use in worship. Men of the West do not worship Eru or the Valar. We simply hold them is highest regard, especially Bema."

"Oh, I've heard the name Bema," I cut in. "Many people in Aldburg use his name in vain."

Eothain chuckled. "Bema is the huntsman. He was the great rider and for that, we honor him. But you didn't ask of Bema, you asked of Melkor and his Orcs."

"Okay, continue with the Orcs."

He smiled. "Melkor was...rebellious, I suppose you could say, and he wanted to make creations of his own. After the creation of the world, races to inhabit it were created next. Dwarves, created by Aule, Ents, created by Yavanna. Men and Elves were created by Eru himself."

"Wait, wait, wait," I said, turning further towards Eothain. "Dwarves, Ents, and Elves?"

"Yes," he said, matter-of-factly. "Though no one has seen Ents in thousands of years."

"I don't know what an Ent is, but Elves?"

"Do you not know of the fair folk?"

I turned back forward. "This conversation took quite the turn."

"Indeed," he said. "Perhaps we get back to the original question?"

"That one question sprouted a million more."

"Well, you can ask them when I finish. We have all day. Anyway, with all of these creatures, Melkor wished to create his own. The Orcs are a part of that wish. They are mutations of Elves. They hate any and all things, even themselves. Especially themselves."

"So, they attack Rohan because they just...hate?"

"Yes. Would you not hate a race you were considered the poor, ugly imitation of?"

"I guess that's one way to put it. But what about the Elves? Tell me abou-"

Rain hadn't even started when the lightning struck the ground before us. Neidr bucked as the thunder sounded with the bolt and I fell, a sharp pain hitting my head before I saw black.

* * *

The first thing I felt was that my head was much colder than my body. The second was the headache. Sharp, shooting pains like the migraines I would get as a teenager, plunging through my head. Behind the lids of my eyes, I could see the flickering of a fire. I opened them. I was in one of Frieda's sickrooms at the barracks. Someone had changed my clothes. I wasn't wearing the coat and blanket I had been out on the plains. Instead, only a faded white nightgown. I reached for my head, realizing that my hair was soaking wet and wrapped in some kind of bandage.

"Diolch i Bema eich bod chi'n effro," a voice said from the corner. Thank Bema you're awake.

"Eomer," I muttered, surprised to see him.

"How fair you?" he said, switching to common tongue. "You hit your head quite hard."

"It hurts," I said. "Where is Eothain?"

"Perhaps you should rest more."

"Eomer, where is Eothain?" I asked again.

The Marshal sighed. "Eothain was leading you and the horse back to Aldburg. He was struck by a second lightning burst. Neidr brought you back to the gate."

"Is he alright?"

Eomer looked pained. "Mallory, Eothain was struck by lightning. He is dead."


	6. Chapter 6

**"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." - Norman Cousins**

Chapter 6

"Wait...what?"

"Mallory, please, lie back down."

"Eothain is dead?"

"Mallory, your head-"

"I don't care about my fucking head!"

Ouch. That hurt. I tried to look around the room, but I had tunnel vision, and bad. Probably a concussion. Go figure. I wanted to stay sitting up, but the dizziness was too much and I had to put my head back on the pillow. Eomer's eyes were red and his blond braids were dripping wet. "Where is Frieda?" I asked.

"Frieda is home with his...with the body." He stood, walking over to Frieda's work table and grabbing something. It was a cup. "You should drink some water."

"I don't want water."

"By Bema, you are stubborn. Drink the water, Mallory. I'm not asking."

I took the cup, maneuvering the water from inside to my mouth. It was cool and clean. Not like this room. Not like the tension between us. "Why are you here?"

"Pardon?"

"Why aren't you out doing Marshal things? I would think taking care of me is beneath you."

That was not the right thing to say. "Beneath me? You would think cleaning up the mess of a friend's death beneath me? A friend I have known since childhood! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I don't really know you."

"Then perhaps you should think over your insensitive comments before you make them."

"You still didn't answer my question."

He let out a sigh, sinking back into his chair. "I am here because Frieda refuses to be and you shouldn't be alone in your condition."

"Frieda...blames me? But I didn't do anything. This isn't my fault."

"I never said it was. But Mallory, please. You must calm down and you mustn't blame Frieda. Give her some time."

He looked so tired. He always looked tired. But this time, he was also sad. Mourning for his friend. And I was sad too, but not in the way I probably should have been. Eothain was a nice boy. He took care of me, gave me a place to live when I had nothing. But I also barely knew him. Eomer knew him. Knew him as a friend and a comrade in whatever battle they were fighting. And though I was sad, I wasn't and would never be as sad as him.

"He took me riding," I muttered. "Neidr, the mare, he wanted me to ride her out on the planes. He told me about the Orcs and why they attack Rohan."

Eomer didn't look up. "And what did he tell you?"

"He told me about their creation. That they attack because they hate men."

He made no sound, but I saw his shoulders move slightly, as if he were chuckling. "Eothain was always ignorant. Not because he was stupid, but because he wanted to do his job with little interference from fear."

"What do you mean?"

"The Orcs do not attack simply to attack, Mallory," he said, looking up for the first time. "They are being sent here."

"Sent here? By who?"

Eomer reached into his pocket, pulling out a black, dirty shred of cloth. But it wasn't completely black. It was also plastered with white paint. "Saruman the White."

"The Wizard?" I said, jolting my head upward and immediately regretting it as the pain flowed through my temples.

"I tried to tell Eothain to stop filling your head with false hope. The Orcs some from the west, from the Gap of Rohan. The closest inhabitant that possesses the power to control Orcs is the White Wizard, residing in Isengard." He lay the cloth on the edge of my bed. A white hand was painted there. "Saruman's sigil. The White Hand."

And without meaning to, tears started falling from my face. Breathing became hard and I became ashamed. I turned away from him, burying my head in the wool pillow.

"Mallory, it...it will be alright," he said. I could tell by his tone that he meant to comfort me but was unsure of how. "Eothain's soul will pass and he will rest in peace."

And I wanted that to be why I was sad. I really wanted to grieve for the young man who had rescued me and been so kind to me, but I couldn't. All I could feel was sadness and shame. Sadness that the one solution that had been presented to me as a way to get me back home was now the enemy. Shame that I felt very little for Eothain and that it was his friend that sat beside me.

"I...I want to be alone," I squeeked out through the tears.

He hesitated, but eventually rose from his chair and left me there, my head in pain, homesick, and guilty.

* * *

Things were different after that. Frieda was unwilling to talk to me after Eothain's death and I was sentenced to live in the Barracks with Eomer's permission. I didn't like venturing into town because everyone would stare at me. Around here, it was normal for a soldier to die at the hands of an enemy, but dying from nature was another thing. Eothain's death was an anomaly to these people and I got the impression that they weren't very willing to forgive me as the one who had been his companion on the tiny journey that had ended his life. And so, I didn't go out much after that.

They had a funeral. I didn't go, but I watched from the window of one of the sick rooms in the Barracks infirmary. A woman sang a song as he was buried in a field outside of Aldburg's walls, a field covered in white flowers. To pass the time, I helped with the injured, using the few techniques I had managed to pick up from Frieda before she had cast me aside.

The one thing that changed the most was that I saw Eomer almost every day. He came up from training or whatever it was that he did with his time to see me. We didn't talk of much. He brought me maps and I grazed over them, trying to make sense of the foreign geography. Rohvannan, Gondor, Mordor…I asked him once for a book, breaking our usual silence. He said books were rare in Rohan but if he found one in the common tongue he would bring it to me.

He brought me food. Small portions of vegetables, bread, and meat, but that wasn't unusual. That was the local cuisine. What was unusual was that he had paid zero attention to me in a month and now spent nearly every day with me and we barely even shared words.

But one day, he did. "You look pale."

"Huh?" I said, looking up from the rabbit he had brought me today.

"Your skin. It is pale. You should leave the Barracks. Get fresh air. See the sun shine."

I thought of how the people would stare. They already stared because I was the strange girl who didn't speak their language. But now they stared because Eothain was dead and I had been the one with him. I suspected they thought I had suggested a ride in a thunderstorm, even though it had been Eothain that had suggested it. Either way, I had no interest in defending myself to these people, nor did I want their judgement.

"Sun is overrated," I said, putting another bite of meat and popping it into my mouth.

"Sun is healthy. Rohirrim were not meant to sit behind walls."

"I'm not Rohirrim."

"You were not meant to sit behind walls either, Mallory."

I stood up, setting my unfinished plate of food on the table in front of him. Thanks for lunch. You probably have stuff to do this afternoon."

"Mallory, I just-,"

"I probably won't be hungry for dinner. I'm so full I can't even finish this plate. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"Mallory, enough!" He raised his voice at me. Three weeks of near silence and now, he yelled. "Enough of this nonsense. This is what it means to live in this world. People die, friends and family die. But we mourn them and we move on. That is what we do, or we do not survive. And you are not surviving, Mallory. You are giving up and I will not have it."

"Maybe I don't want to survive!" I yelled back at him. "Maybe, if there's no hope of me getting back home, then there's no hope in trying to continue. I hate it here. I hate eating wild game and chunky bread. I hate not bathing and not brushing my teeth. I miss my friends, my school, my job! I just want to go home!" And with that, I grabbed hold of the door to this room that had started to become my self-induced prison. I ran through the halls of the Barracks that had become my refuge. I broke that refuge now, running out of the building and through the town. I realized that the weather had grown much colder since I had taken my refuge. I hadn't grabbed anything more than the shawl that was already on my back. The cold alerted me to the tears that had started streaming down my face.

They stared at me as I ran. I mean, I had tears in my eyes, clouding my vision, but I knew. I could feel it. Eomer had not left Aldburg since Eothain's death. That meant the Orc attacks were low. The gates were open and I ran out of them. The cold air cut through my lungs, burning my insides. Stitches grew and made it ever harder to breathe. But I panted through it until the small city was out of my sight over the ridge of the planes.

I collapsed in the middle of those ridges. It was cold and the wind was shap outside the walls, but the sun was high in the sky, bringing warmth with it's rays. I didn't know the exact date. Eomer had told me that dates were not given great attention in Rohan, but he knew it was mid-October. Odd, that in this world of different creatures and places, that mine and theirs shared a calendar.

The stitches in my stomach calmed, but the tears continued. I thought of the Kindergartners on the first day of school back home. How they would cling to Mom or Dad's leg, not wanting to leave their safe environment for the fear of school. Leaving them to be taken care of by a stranger. Homesickness would come after parents left. Crying and wanting to go home.

I was them. A scared five-year-old. Except, like those five-year-olds, I would never adapt. I tried and I had failed.

I don't know how long I was out on the planes. I was about seventy percent sure I could make it back to Aldburg, but I also wasn't sure that I wanted to.

But I couldn't stay forever. And it seemed this universe wouldn't let me. Over the ridge to my right, figures began to emerge on horseback. I squinted to try and make them out. As they moved closer, I could tell that they hadn't come from Aldburg. Their horses were not those of Rohan, that was the easiest thing to tell. They were much smaller and didn't have that...something that Rohan's horses had. These were normal horses. Their armor was shiny made of some kind of silver metal, very different from the bronze and leather of the Rohirrim. Their armor was also encrested with a sigil. A white tree. One of the riders carried the sigil on a flag. There were maybe ten of them. A small party headed by a large man with dark brown hair. They all had dark brown hair, actually. Something definitely rare around here. Nearly everyone in Aldburg was blond, some rare redheads. But dark brown…

"Greetings!" The man heading the group called to me. He was adorned with the shiniest armor of the group with a velvet cape around his shoulders, a large sword at his hip, and, curiously, what looked like a horn strapped across his chest with a leather belt. "I am afraid my party and I do not speak your language, young maiden. Perhaps luck is on my side and you speak mine?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, standing and rubbing my sleeve over my face, trying to wipe the dried tear lines away.

"We hail from Gondor," he said, dismounting his horse and walking over to me. "So we are ghastly unfamiliar with the territory of your land. Mayhaps you could point us in the direction of Edoras? I have need to speak with Theoden, your king."

Eomer's uncle. Edoras was the capital of Rohan, but I didn't know how to get there. "Um...no. I could bring you to Aldburg. Theoden's nephew is the Third Marshal of Rohan and is the caretaker of its fortress. But I don't know how to get to Edoras."

"Alas, I suppose Theoden's nephew will do. You have been helpful, miss." He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly. "I am Boromir, Son of Denethor. Who do I have the pleasure?"

"Mallory Gilmore," I said, fighting the urge to yank my hand back. I got the feeling he wouldn't respond well to that.

"My lord Boromir," one of the riders called. "Time is of the essence."

"Ah, yes," he said, dropping my hand. "I notice you have no steed, might you ride with me upon mine and lead us to the house of your master Marshal?"

"Eomer's not my master," I snapped, but regretted it immediately.

"Yes, well," Boromir muttered, uncomfortable now. "To my steed."

Great, another chance to ride on a horse with one of these chauvinistic Middle-earth dudes. He would probably try to help me onto the horse. What made me think of Eothain, which made me want to start crying again. I walked to his black horse and he followed. I expected him to try and lift me onto the horse, but he simply offered me a gloved hand. I took it out of courtesy and mounted the steed and he followed swiftly. "Which way to Aldburg, miss?"

"Over there." I pointed towards the direction I had run from. "Can't be more than a few minutes on horseback since I ran here."

"Yes, he said. I felt his arm wave forward. "I do wonder what might bring a young maiden out to the middle of the planes by herself in these troubled times."

"I just wanted to be alone for a while. That's hard to do in that fortress."

"Solitude," he muttered. "I understand it's value, but I would certainly advise against it in this current climate. We heard from the last village we stopped at that Rohan is frequently under siege from Orc attacks. Be this true?"

"It is, but they haven't attacked in some weeks. The gates to Aldburg have been open."

"Yes, I see it now." Aldburg was indeed in sight. "Gates are open and welcome to visitors, I assume?"

"Um, I don't know, actually. Since I've been here, there haven't really been any visitors."

"'Since you have been here'?" he repeated. "Do you not live here?"

"Only for the last two months or so."

"And where do you hail from, Miss Mallory?"

"That, Lord Boromir, is a complicated story."

"I should like to hear it over ale and food, if it fancy you."

"I thought you wanted to talk to Eomer?"

"And you will be there, yes?"

"What makes you think that?" Why would I be in any meeting with him and Eomer? I wasn't important. Especially when it came to a conversation that was probably meant for the king.

"One who would refer to your Marshal as simply 'Eomer' certainly knows him better than your everyday commoner."

"Right," i said, cursing my inability to bite my tongue.

" _Hwa aut þær_?" A guard called from atop the pillar. Ugh my Rohirric was rusty being cooped up in the Barracks, but I could understand his basic question. _Who goes there?_

I did my best mangled Rohirric response. "It is Mallory Gilmore. This is Lord Boromir and his traveling party from Gondor. They wish speak to Eomer."

The guard narrowed his eyes. " _Lord_ Eomer," he snapped. "Was about to send out a search party for you."

"I am sorry," I called up. "But these travelers found me on planes instead. Are they good to come inside?"

"Mallory!" And angry voice shouted, causing me to jump. Boromir's hands grabbed my shoulders, keeping me from falling off the horse. It was Eomer, and he was fuming. "That is not what I meant by going outside," he shouted in the common tongue. "You were gone almost an hour!"

"I thought I wasn't a prisoner," I snapped back, yanking my shoulders out of Boromir's grip and sliding off the horse, stomping toward him. "You wanted me to leave the Barracks, so I left."

"I meant go into town. Visit shops, talk to someone other than me."

"If you weren't so dense, you'd realise that that is the last thing on the planet I want to do right now."

"What you want and what you need are two very different things, you impossible woman!"

"Ugh!" I yelled, exasperated. "That's it. I'm done."

"Done? You can't be done."

"Nope, I'm done. At least until I can stomach looking at your face again." And with that, I stomped off back to the Barracks, ignoring, as always, the stares that followed be from the townspeople of Aldburg.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: I am aware that my timeline and certain character locations are not accurate. I am taking some creative liberty to expose my OC to more of Middle-earth than just Rohan. Also, yeah. There's a continuity error. Maybe a couple. I'm writing this literally when I have time. Like, I should be doing midterms right now and I'm not. I'm doing this. But I forget some things sometimes. It's just for fun. It's not supposed to be perfect. Just enjoy. xoxo_

* * *

 **"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our minds to grow sharper." W.B. Yeats**

 **Chapter 7**

Impossible. That was the only word I had to describe her. Her impossible attitude, impossible courage, and, most importantly, her impossible situation. And I stood there, lost for words, as she stomped away from me, her face red with anger, the people watching her as she walked down the street.

A cough sounded behind me. It was the man whose horse she had been on. "My Lord Eomer?"

"Who are you?" I snapped, turning on the man. His squire and his armor held the sigil of Gondor, another impossible thing. Why would Gondorians be traveling through Rohan?

His posture stiffened. I knew I was being rude, but I didn't care. Who was he, this stranger, that Mallory would rather be with than me?

I immediately cursed that thought. She was not mine to be with, and I was constantly reminding myself of that these last few weeks.

"Boromir, Son of Denethor," He said, with a small bow of his head. "My party and I are passing through your lands to reach Rivendell."

"Rivendell?" I asked. "What would bring Men of the West to the Elven Kingdom?"

"That I know not but I am led there by riddles. Mayhaps we can discuss it behind thicker walls?" He nodded toward the people who stared at his party now that Mallory was gone.

"Of course," I said, knowing my expectations would be to invite this Lord into my home. With that I led his party to the Barracks and the Lord to my quarters, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. The sooner I finished with this Gondorian, the sooner I could check on Mallory.

In the study in my fortress, I poured us drinks from a flagon of ale. "You mentioned riddles, Lord Boromir. What riddles?"

"There are rumors of Isildur's Bane laying wake in Imladris."

"Isildur's Bane?" I asked. "You mean the One Ring?"

"It would make sense, would it not?" he argued. "Orcs attack Rohan in irregular pattern, or so your young maiden Mallory tells me." I tried not to flinch at the mention of her name. "The goblins have not been seen in the light of day since the years of the Dark Lord. Of Isildur himself."

"But why Rivendell?"

"There is a rumor. Rumor that a gathering of free folk is happening in the Elven kingdom."

"You travel all the way from Gondor just for rumor?"

"There are strange happenings, Lord Eomer. Happenings that have not occured sime the dark times. You cannot deny these Orc attacks are beyond ordinary. Their numbers climb. You see it every time you venture too far from the safety of your fortress's walls. Am I wrong?"

I ignored his question. A feeling grew inside me that told he he wasn't telling me quite everything he knew. "Why did you want to speak to my Lord Uncle?"

"To see if our brothers in your lands needed aid. Word of your attacks has not reached my father, the Steward of Gondor. Had it, I am certain he would send aid. I wished to ask if there was anything Gondor could offer in aid to your country and people. Orc attacks also persist on our stronghold city Osgiliath, but my brother Faramir and I have managed to hold it with little loss. There is also the matter of this meeting. Would he care to send delegates as well?"

"I'm afraid Theoden doesn't take many visitors these days," I said. "He grows more ill as the weather grows cold. My sister writes me daily. She heads his house at Meduseld, you see. She writes for me to beg my cousin to visit his father, but while the Orc attacks near my city are harsh, they are nothing compared to the blows that hit him where he is stationed as Second Marshal in the Hornburg at Helm's Deep. The Orcs come from the Gap of Rohan. When you travel there to reach Rivendell, you would do well to pass through the Gap quickly and swiftly as possible, my lord."

He nodded in agreement. "I was hoping your cousin, Prince Theodred would accompany me. If there is to be a meeting of the free peoples, Rohan should be present to represent Men as well as Gondor. But if what you say is true, I suppose he must stay here with his people."

"You flatter me, Lord Boromir. I must admit, I haven't met many Gondorians in my years, but never have I met any as inclusive as you. I appreciate your invitations."

"Perhaps you would join me, Lord Eomer?" he asked.

"Alas, I must decline. I cannot abandon my post as Third Marshal nor could I just leave my people."

"Yes I suppose there are many sweet comforts of home one would miss on a trip like this. Your Lady Mallory being one of them?"

"What?" I snapped.

"Forgive me," he said, taken aback. "I meant no disrespect. Perhaps I've assumed to much."

"Perhaps," I said, standing. "Thank you for your invitations. You and your men are welcome to find refuge in Aldburg for the night. I suppose you will be back on your journey in the morning. Rest well here, my lord."

He stood as well, giving a small cough as he did. "I do apologize, Lord Marshal. And many thanks for your hospitalities. My men and I will rest well here in Aldburg." And with a bow of his head, he showed himself out of my door, back to the barracks where his men had been left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I chugged the last of my tankard, the hops of the beer stinging my throat on the way down. It had been a long time since I had had a drink. I had been spending every waking moment at work with the men or with Mallory.

Mallory...I could not shake her from my thoughts. Every moment I was not with her was stifling. I yearned to be in her presence. Even though she said little to me, she was a comfort in these times. Things were so uncertain. What was Saruman plotting? How was my uncle's health fairing? Would I need to send riders out to Theodred once again? Mallory was the one thing I had that stayed constant these last few weeks. The way she would brush her fingertips lightly over the maps I had brought her from my study, the way her eyes would squint as she read them. How she would write little notes on parchment that she had found. There was a callus from where she rested the quill on the middle finger of her right hand. She had been writing for years. It was odd to find a commoner who could write, let alone read. Everything about her was odd.

And yet, she was gentle. Her hands did not know labor, yet her posture did not know royalty. She was inept at riding a horse, yet the animals would listen to her talk. That was, when she did speak. I caught her a few nights prior, in the stables with Firefoot. That damn beast followed her whenever she was around. She spoke to him of names I did not know. Foreign names like hers. Andy, Stephen, Jodi, MacKenzie, the list went on and on. She called them her students.

I rejected Lords of noble lands out of jealousy for her. I wanted her to talk to me like she spoke to Firefoot. I was becoming greedy and I did not care.

* * *

I marched my butt to the stables. I was so pissed off at the fact that I wasn't even allowed to be pissed off. I had no idea what was going on in this place. What was Gondor? What made it so important? What had I gotten myself into? Everything about this was so weird. Most importantly, why wasn't I allowed to know about it? I had asked, more than once, what was going on and I hadn't received any answers. It was infuriating. But I think what infuriated me most was that Eomer now seemed to think that he could control me. He told me to get out, he told me to come back in...it was ridiculous.

Firefoot was in the stables. I came down here sometimes to be alone, but truth be told, I was already so alone and I think the stallion knew that. Plus, he was an animal and an animal would never judge me.

The stallion approached me. Rohirrim didn't keep their horses in stalls. It was too confinding for them. And the horses in this stable were so well trained that they would never initiate conflict upon each other. It was nice down here with the horses roaming. Firefoot knelt his tall neck down to my hand, looking for a treat. I opened it wide. "Nothing there, my dude." Instead I rubbed his velvet soft nose. That seemed to please him well enough.

"So what's going on with you?" I said, his ears jerking in my direction, listening. "Cause your master's given me one hell of a day." And I told him. Told him all about how I felt. It felt good to tell someone, even if it was just a horse. But I knew a horse would never give me judgement.

"He is a fine beast," a voice said behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Boromir, leaning against a wooden post, his arms crossed. He had removed his breastplate with the tree on it. It made him look only slightly smaller.

"Jesus Christ, you scared me."

He chuckled. "That was not my intention, Miss Mallory. I apologize." He walked over to me and Firefoot. "Is this your beast?"

"No, he's Eomer's."

"Really? You two really do baffle me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are not a couple, or so he tells me, yet you are obviously involved in some capacity, but I cannot figure it out for the life of me."

"I'm not really sure why you would care."

"I like people. I care about people, perhaps too easily. Sometimes I overstep my bounds, like right now."

"You're not bothering me." And it was true. He didn't stare at me like the people of Aldburg. He seemed like a kind person. I liked talking to him.

"You told the horse that you didn't know what was going on with this war. Is that true?"

"I don't have a clue. I've tried to ask and it seems like no one really cares. And if they do, they either don't want to tell me or worry what my reaction might be."

"I'm afraid most people probably don't know the truth about what is going on, leaving them very little to tell you."

"And you do know what's going on?" I countered, sitting down on a bench.

"I only have thoughts pieced together by dreams and rumors."

"Dreams? What, like visions or actual dreams?"

"A vision in my dreams, I suppose. Or maybe message is more appropriate."

"Please tell me. I'm not stupid. I know something is going on and I want to know what it is. If Eomer won't or can't tell me, I feel like I need to know."

He nodded. "You are a strange woman, Mallory Gilmore. And I don't mean that as an insult, more of a simple observation. I will tell you, but in return, I wish for your story. You told me just enough to intrigue me and I must admit, I will find it difficult to leave Rohan without knowing your tale."

"Deal," I said, pulling my legs up to my chest and covering them with my long skirt.

"Well, Gondor is also under attack, which I doubt you know. My father has been quite unwilling to call for aid. Not that the attacks have been so large that we would need it, but we may soon. Our stronghold, Osgiliath, fights to hold off the villains of Mordor, the likes of which haven't been seen in nearly three thousand years."

"What is Mordor?"

"You know not of the dark kingdom?" he asked.

"You'll understand why when you hear my story."

He nodded patiently. "Very well. Mordor is the home of the Dark Lord Sauron." I stared blankly. "You know not of him either?"

"Pretend I know nothing. Like, absolutely nothing."

"I see. Perhaps we should backtrack then," And he delved into a story. A story spanning thousands of years. The story told of rings, well One Ring in particular. Of a villain one only hears about in scary fantasy novels. Of Elves, Dwarves, and magic. Of a battle that raged between good and evil. Of a man named Isildur who gave into greed and temptation and then lost his life for it. And I was hooked.

"And no one knows what happened to the ring?"

"That is where the rumors and the vision come into play. My journey came upon me in a message. In the same dream, my brother Faramir and I received a message telling us the One Ring now resides in Rivendell, the Elven Kingdom. Doom is in hand for my kingdom and the answers to saving it lie in Rivendell, its fate tied with that of a Halfling."

"A what?"

"Some call them Hobbits. They are...little men, I suppose. I have never actually met one."

"Cool. And you're just...passing through?"

"In all honesty, I was looking for companionship but I can see that the leaders of Rohan must stay in Rohan for now. This country has not a fortress of the likes of Osgiliath to shield it from the evil that wages battle here."

"You asked Eomer to go with you?"

"And, alas, he has declined." He gave a small cough. "And now, Miss Mallory, I believe it is your turn to tell me your story, for I have talked too much for now."

Now that it was my turn. I didn't want to. How do you explain my story to someone who couldn't possibly have a single notion of what my world was? But I had made an agreement. And honestly, what did I have to lose?

"I guess I should start with the fact that I'm not from Middle-earth."

He looked instantly confused. "I...do not understand."

"This place," I gestured around. "My homeworld isn't like this. I mean, it was, kind of. I guess you could say, I'm from the future."

If he was going to lock me up for insanity, he wasn't making very much of a move, so I continued. "My world is like a different Earth altogether. Seven continents, six oceans, and all of it is connected through technology in some way or another that your world doesn't possess yet. Mine is further along in its ages, I guess you could say. And there is no magic. No magic Rings or Hobbits, Elves or Valar. They don't exist outside of tales and legends.

"I was a teacher. I taught in a school for young children, nine and ten year olds. I spent summers working at a campsite as a manager of the property. One day I was scouting the property for border markers. The next thing I new, I had woken up in the plains of Rohan. Eomer's group of riders found me and brought me here, where I could be safe. And since I've been here, everything had been terrible. The man who took me in died not long ago from a lightning storm. His sister will not speak to me. I've been living in these barracks, unable to leave because the people here...they don't understand. They can't understand. I don't speak their language and I think they blame me for this man's death as I had been accompanying him during the storm. Until today, I had no idea what this war you are all fighting was about. I still don't really understand it. I want to...but trying to is like you trying to comprehend that I am from another universe. It all seems impossible...yet here I am. Here we are."

We sat in silence for a moment. I waited for him to run and fetch the keeper of Rohan's insane asylum, but he didn't. He just sat there until he found words.

"I must admit, Miss Mallory, it all does seem impossible."

"You don't believe me," I muttered, defeated.

"It isn't that I don't believe you. It is simply what you have already stated. It is hard to comprehend."

"In this world, where magic exists," I said, gaining a little confidence in his words, "Do you think something like this could ever happen?"

"Well, when you tie the words together like that," he said with a small smile. "I suppose it logically cannot be impossible. The questions are simply why? Why were you brought here? And how, if magic does not exist in your realm? Surely it was for a purpose. What is that purpose?"

"I've been asking myself those questions every day since I arrived. No one here has the answers, that's for sure."

"We both seek answers, it seems." He stood and held out his hand. I took it and he pulled me up beside him, keeping my hand entangled with his. "Thank you for your story, Mallory. I know it was hard to tell. And as a way to show my thanks, I will return the kindness and trust. Upon my journey to Imladris, I will try to find your answers for you as I seek the answers to my own questions. The Elves are very wise. Lord Elrond, master of Imladris is considered one of the wisest of his kind. I will try to find you solace, if you grant me permission to share your story, of course."

I smiled. "Any answer, even the smallest theory, would bring me peace, I know it."

"Then I will do my best. We all deserve some solace in these times. If I can bring it to you, then I ad this to my quest. I bid you farewell, Mallory. Until we meet again," he said, placing a small kiss on my hand.

And that was the last I ever saw of Boromir of Gondor.


	8. Chapter 8

**"A person who's never made a mistake is someone who's never tried something new"- Albert Einstein**

Chapter 8

Boromir and his party departed the next morning. I hadn't slept well. Not that I ever really did anymore and watched them leave from the window of the room I had been given. He looked up towards me and parted with a wave. I returned it, hoping that his journey to Imladris proved worth it for the both of us.

As I continued to watch them ride off, a knock sounded on the door to my room. "Eomer," I said, stepping away from the window.

"Good morning," he greeted with a small nod. "It seems the visitors have left as fast as they arrived."

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

"What did you make of Lord Boromir?"

"He...was kind," I said. I didn't know what I should tell him. Boromir had been very helpful to me. Not nearly as helpful as this horselord had been. But I didn't know how to say that without being rude.

"He was kind to you? I had wondered what his intentions were. I heard he was looking for you last night."

"His intentions were only kindness, not that it's any of your business," I snapped.

"By Bema, I cannot say anything right to you, can I?" he said, leaning against the doorframe and rubbing at his eyes. "I didn't come here to fight with you, Mallory."

He looked...defeated. I don't think I had ever seen him that way. He was normally so confident and sure. Now, it seemed I had finally gotten the best of him.

"Then why did you come?" I asked.

"I fear I have made a mistake. I came to rectify it."

"I hope you mean about yesterday."

"I do. I apologize, Mallory. I realize now that I wrongly approached the situation." He paused. "But I had to."

"You had to?"

"Death is hard. Yes, I have seen a lot of it and I have grown numb over the years. I forget that not everyone has my experience. But you have to trust me when I say that I do have experience. If you shut yourself out, sit behind walls and refuse to conquer it, then it wins. And I don't want you to lose to death."

He didn't want to lose me? What was that supposed to mean?

"Um...thanks…" I muttered, unsure of what to say. I mean, I knew what I wanted to say. That Eothain's death sucked, yeah, but it's not like we were close. He definitely was way more interested in me that I was in him. That was easy enough to tell. It did me no good to become infatuated with anyone here. I needed to get home and that's who Eothain was to me. The one person I had met who showed any interest in helping me. Boromir said he might be able to ask around for someone to help, but I honestly didn't expect him to find anything. This world was too plagued with war to find time for me.

Eomer nodded and came further into the room, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "I've thought of something for you to do, if you are interested in leaving these walls."

"What's that?"

"I know you wish to return home, but until we can find time and means to research a way, then I have something of a job that needs doing."

"What's the job?"

"There are a few children here in Aldburg that have become orphaned since the Orcs began attacking. There is a caretaker of our small orphanage, but she is a young and simple girl. I know you neither speak, nor read Rohirric, but it is uncommon to find someone of your background who can read and write even the common tongue. If you would be willing to teach the children, give them something to do that can take their minds off of the death that has plagued their lives, it would be fulfilling, I think."

I couldn't deny, it was tempting. I missed the classroom. Back home, I disappeared at the end of my summer vacation. By now I would have started preparing my classroom for the year, learning my students names, and having school open house. And really, what reason could I possible have for saying no? If I could show the people of Aldburg that I wasn't a monster, then maybe things would get easier for me.

"Okay, I'm in," I said, standing up. "When do I start?"

Eomer looked surprised. "I must admit, I didn't think you would accept so quickly."

I shrugged. "What have I got to lose?"

* * *

The orphanage was small. Just a little building just out of the town's square. Simple, built of wood, your basic Rohirric fashion, I guess. "How many children?" I asked as we walked the road from the barracks.

"Five,"" Eomer said. "Many of our soldiers have perished, but what tends to happen is that mothers remain alive for their children and unclaimed orphans have thankfully remained few. Some have elder sisters, aunts, or extended family to care for them. These orphans do not. Three of these children's mothers were slaughtered while sewing crops during a raid. One never knew her mother. I believe she died in childbirth. The fifth's mother was a Shieldmaiden."

"What's a Shieldmaiden?"

"They are women trained as soldiers. They have a long history in Rohan's past."

"I would like to hear it someday."

"Perhaps someday I will share it with you." I swear I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. Didn't see that often. "Are you nervous?" he asked.

"A little." In truth, I was terrified. These children probably didn't need a teacher. What they needed was a counselor. I didn't speak their language and what they probably needed most was someone to talk to. To listen to them.

The only thing that kept me walking was something that had stayed with me since Boromir had left. His innate curiosity of where I came from and how I came to be here, not to mention his desire for the same answers I wanted, made me believe that my situation could be curious enough to spark something in more people to help me. I mean, I did get here. There had to be a way to get back. And if expanding my life outside of a room and a stable could help me somehow, I was willing.

"Do not be nervous, Mallory. Rohirric children are strong and able. They will want to know you. To learn from you. Not many children have the opportunities to learn what you can teach them. They will welcome it."

I chuckled. "You don't know anything about children, do you?"

He smiled again. "I am afraid you are right. Children are a puzzle to me."

"Children like to have fun. They like what makes them comfortable. They like their peers and their social lives. Most children don't like sitting behind desks and learning how to read and write. Especially if they have bigger things on their minds. Like their parents dying."

"That is quite bleak, I must say."

We entered a small silence, walking slowly through the town square. Passerby stared at me, like always. I wish I could know what they were thinking. But dwelling on that was not healthy. "Did you like learning to read and write?"

"By Bema, no. I much preferred learning the blade or the taming of horses. Eowyn was much better suited for studies than I, though I doubt she liked it any more than I did. She was just better at it, I suppose."

'Who's Eowyn?" I asked.

"My sister."

Right. I remembered now. He had mentioned her long ago on that day I traveled to Aldburg with his eored. "She lives in the Capital, right?"

"Indeed."

"Is it hard living so far away from her and your uncle?"

"It was when I first left Edoras for my position here. She was all I had for so long and my uncle had become the only father I could ever know again in this life. But we write each other often and I visit from time to time. In fact, I will make for a visit there in a couple of days."

"You're leaving Aldburg?"

"For a short time. I will leave a trusted member of the eored in charge here while I report my findings of Saruman's involvement to the king and his advisors. Now that I have proof, perhaps an advancement can be made in our favor."

I nodded, trying not to look bothered. I would never admit it outloud, but I didn't want him to leave. With Eothain gone, he was the closest thing to a friend I had in this town. The prospect of losing that, if only temporarily, was frightening.

We had reached the door to the orphanage and he opened it for me, gesturing me inside. It was small. Five cots were positioned in a corner. Basic provisions like food and cooking supplies were stored around a fireplace. There was a dining table and chairs. Little knick knacks and toys littered the floor.

Like Eomer had said, there were five children, various ages, scattered around the simple building, four were engaged in play. Another little girl sat over by her cot with knitting in her hands.

"Vanesse," Eomer said, walking me over to a small woman stirring the fire. "This is Mallory Gilmore."

I noticed he didn't switch to Rohirric. The girl smiled at me. "Do you speak Common Tongue?" I asked.

"I do, miss. I'm afraid the little ones do not, though."

"I speak a bit of Rohirric. With your help, I'm sure things will be fine."

She continued to smile. "I am sure of it. Would you like to meet them?"

I nodded and she took me over to the group of four, switching to her native tongue. "Everyone, this is Mallory."

They all looked up, even the one with the knitting. One of the boys started talking so fast, I could barely understand him. Vanesse must have seen my puzzled face and switched back to Common Tongue. "He asks who you are and why you are here."

I nodded a knelt down, sitting on my knees amongst them. "My name is Mallory," I said in Rohirric, doing my best to keep my speech from breaking. "I came to spend time with you all."

The little boy shot up to his feet, toy animal in hand. "I am Arton," he said, pointing to my head. "Are you _dúnælf_?"

I looked back at Vanesse as Eomer chuckled behind me. "I don't know what he's asking."

She smiled. "He asks if you are Elfkind."

Oh. That's why Eomer laughed. I shook my head, turing back to the boy. "No. I am a person. Just like you."

"You have brown hair like _dúnælf_. My papa told me about them."

I had noticed before that there was very little brown hair in this town. Nearly everyone was flaxen. Everyone in this room was blond except for me. It was something that I had noticed, but paid little attention to. I turned to the other children and asked their names.

Along with Arton, who must have been around seven years old, there was another boy, Fion, who seemed to be around ten. And the two girls playing with them, Tara and Mariel, both probably about ten years as well. "And what's your name?" I asked the girl over on her cot. She looked up from her knitting. "Lia," she said quietly.

They were all very sweet. But there was also something they all had in common. They were all terribly sad, even though most of them tried to hide it through distraction. Lia was the worst at it, but also the best at occupying herself. She would be a challenge.

Eomer stayed the entire time with me. It was strange to see him in this element. I was so used to him brooding and infusing his intimidating presence everywhere he went. But here, he was soft and kind. How many layers did this guy have?

"Did you like it?" he asked me as we walked back to the barracks later that evening.

"They're all great kids. Lia seems a little weary of me though."

"She is the one who lost her mother to battle."

"The Shieldmaiden's daughter?"

"Yes. I think with time, she will grow a bit more at ease with you though."

"Thank you," I said, kicking a rock in front of me down the street. "You were right. I needed a reason to get out of the walls I had stuck myself behind."

He chuckled. "I didn't think I would ever hear you admit that I was right about something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You remind me of Eowyn. Stubborn and confident, the both of you. I think you two would be good friends."

"Maybe I could meet her someday."

He shook his head. "If Eowyn ever needs to leave Edoras then things will have grown exponentially bad in the Mark. And I intend to keep my promise, Mallory. I will help find your home as soon as I have the resources to do so."

And I realized something as we continued our walk.

I was starting to like this Marshal of Rohan very much.


	9. Chapter 9

**"Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not because they enjoy solitude. It's because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them." - Jodi Picoult**

Chapter 9

"I thought the plan was for you to ride to Edoras?" I asked Eomer as he packed saddlebags for his trip.

"Theodred was supposed to meet me there, but the Fords of Isen have been attacked. I must aid my cousin."

"So this is like a real battle. Not one of these skirmishes you've been fighting all along."

"The Hornburg and the Fords see much more terror than we do here. Theodred has been fighting these battles without me. Elfhelm sends word that I must meet them and bring my aid, least they fail to secure the Gap of Rohan from Isengard."

"And that's where Saruman sits."

"Yes. With any luck, we will be able to hold off the attacks and Theodred and I can ride to Edoras and convince my uncle to send aids of his own."

"Theodred is his son, right? Why hasn't he sent them already?"

"It is likely his advisors have convinced him otherwise. They think of what they know and what they see. They do not understand the severity of this issue. For years, Saruman has been an ally to Rohan. It will take some argument to convince the advisors and the king that the attacks come from the White Wizard."

"How long do you think you will be gone?"

"It is hard to say." He paused from packing. "Do you worry for me, Mallory?"

The truth was, I did. I didn't like the idea of him going where I could not follow. He had become such a staple in my life that it would be hard to imagine like here at Aldburg without him. But I couldn't admit it outloud. The thought of admitting that I had become attached to someone in this realm that was not my own was difficult for me to do. I didn't want attachments. I wanted to go home as soon as possible, and that would be easier if I didn't get attached. So i just shrugged my shoulders. He didn't look pleased at that response.

He left not long after with over half of his command. It was weird, watching him leave. Since Eothain's death, there hadn't been much reason for him to leave the fortress. There had been none of these Orc attacks. Perhaps Theodred had been doing a better job of keeping the Orcs from passing through the Gap of Rohan. I had been studying the maps Eomer had brought me extensively. It was the one thing I could do in my free time that made any sense to me. If I could learn the geography of this land, when all this fighting was over, maybe I could travel it to figure out a way home.

But I had made a promise to myself. I would be there for the children Eomer had tasked me with, especially while he was gone. I wanted him to see progress when he returned. I wanted him to know that I was trying, like he had asked me to. Why I cared so much, I had no idea. But I wanted to do this for him.

He left not long after with few words. I wish he had said more.

* * *

My days in Aldburg continued rather normally without him there. I had decided to move into the orphanage with Vanesse until Eomer returned. There really wasn't much point in staying at the barracks anymore and this allowed me to be near the children if they needed me.

I was more of a caretaker than a teacher, to be honest. They didn't really want to learn how to read, and it's not like I had much to teach them with the resources I had at my disposal. No books or readings in the common tongue were available to me in the Mark and, while my Rohirric had greatly improved since coming here three months ago, I still could not read it. It's why I constantly read over maps. Geography had no language. So, we played. I listened to their stories. Life went on for a few days. Until someone new showed up in Aldburg.

His name, Vanesse told me, was Elfhelm, the messenger Eomer had spoken of before he left. He was a tough looking man. Blond and big, just like the rest of these Riders, but not as stoic or sinister. And I followed every word of his Rohirric when he came to Aldburg and addressed the town.

"By order of the King, every person in Rohan will be housed in the Hornburg until further notice. There will be no need for provisions. Crops will now send their harvests to Helm's Deep. Bring only what provisions you need. Travel close together. We will move quickly on foot to Edoras and make for refuge from there."

"What of Theodred Prince?" someone in the crowd called out. Arton and Tara both held my hands as we watched this announcement.

"Theodred Prince is dead. Theoden King and his heir, Marshal Eomer will be taking command of the Hornburg now."

Tara's hand tightened around my own. "What does he mean, Theoden's heir?" I asked Vanesse.

Her eyes were slightly wet at the news of her Prince's death, but she answered. "If Theodred Prince is dead, the line of succession falls to the next descendant of Eorl. That is Lord Eomer, son of Erol's descent Theodwyn."

"Theoden has no other family?"

"Theodred Prince was his only son. Lord Eomer will succeed the King now."

That was a lot for me to take in. When the announcement was over, Vanesse and I returned to the orphanage to help the little ones pack. Moving them across those plains on foot was not going to be easy. "Why do we have to go to the Hornburg?" I asked my companion as I gathered what little I had.

"It is what Theoden King has declared. He must think it is best."

"But isn't the Hornburg constantly attacked from the Gap of Rohan? Wouldn't it be safer to keep the children as far away as possible?"

"The Hornburg is a fortress. Much larger and better suited to hide from the attacks. Its walls have never been breached. While we will be closer to the fighting, we will be much safer behind the walls."

It didn't make much sense to me. From what I could gather, there wasn't much point to this. There was nowhere behind the walls of the Hornburg to grow food, based on the maps I had studied. The only source of fresh water was Helm's Deep, the river that ran through it. It wasn't meant to be a place to house communities. It was meant to help secure the Gap. But I knew this was an argument I had no point in pursuing. If I tried to stay behind, someone, probably Elfhelm himself, would force me to move and there was no point in that conflict if I wanted to keep the children safe.

Lia was over in her corner, trying to pack too many things into her one bag. "Lia, you must leave some of this behind."

"These are my mama's things," she said. "I cannot leave them behind."

"You will grow too tired on the road trying to carry all of this."

She started to cry, but I managed to calm her down. We settled on her mother's knife and knitting needles. I gave her three balls of light yarn she could use them with. I wasn't too keen on a ten year old possessing a knife, but she always kept it in its sheath and never let the others handle it. As for myself, I packed three of the maps Eomer had given me. One of the Mark, one of all of Middle-earth, and one of Gondor, Boromir's home. I also packed a notebook with a pen and ink and the blanket Eomer had given me all those months ago. Other than that, there wasn't much by way of sentimentality. The rest of the children packed light toys. Vanesse and I carried clothes for everyone in our bags. Better we be weighed down than the children.

Outside, everyone was gathering to depart. Mostly elders, women and children. Elfhelm had said it would be a two days walk with everyone here. By my estimation, it was about thirty miles to Edoras. "They expect these children to walk thirty miles in two days?"

"Miles?" Vanesse asked. "Are those like leagues?"

I had no idea how long a league was in comparison to a mile, so I just nodded my head, hoping she understood my meaning.

"Rohirrim are tough, Miss Mallory. And I think the children will be tougher than you give them credit."

She was right. They were tough. Much tougher than me. By the third hour with Elfhelm and his guards posted down the line of Aldburg's citizens, my feet were crying. Back home, I was an avid hiker, but I never just walked with a bunch of people virtually against my will. The only child that seemed to be suffering as much as I was was little Arton, who kept asking for piggyback rides. I hated turning him down, but I knew if I took on his extra weight, that there would be no way for me to make it. So I just held his hand and encouraged him to keep moving with his friends.

We stopped at midday for a lunch break. I made everyone eat before I let them sit and play with the toys they had brought. Lia just sat with her knitting, as usual. "Is that one yours?" a voice said behind me.

It was Elfhelm and he was pointing at Arton with his little wooden bear. "No. None of them are mine," I answered.

"He hold your hand so tightly. I meant no disrespect, miss."

"They're Aldburg's orphans," I said. "I am one of their caretakers."

"A great service you do for your village."

"I do what I can."

I wasn't trying to be rude, but I hated what this conversation represented. The loss of my identity. The fact that now, I was just a caretaker in Aldburg. Still a lost girl, but one who was growing increasingly doubtful of her ability to return to her home.

"Where did you acquire a map?" he asked me, nodding to the one in my hands.

"Lord Eomer gave it to me," I muttered. As much as I hated my new identity, I didn't want to explain my situation to a stranger. I hadn't even really explained it to Vanesse.

He nodded. "Mistress Frieda told me you were a favorite of the Marshal's."

I rolled my eyes. Frieda was here amongst us, of course. But I continued to avoid her. The beef between us was obviously still there. If I ran into her in town, I did my best to stay out of her way. It had only been a month since her brother's death. If she wanted to talk to me about it, I would let her, but I wouldn't force myself on her. I had decided that immediately.

"Marshal Eomer spoke of you last we met at the Hornburg," Elfhelm said.

"How is he?" I blurted. I hadn't known they had talked.

Elfhelm smiled, but it was half-hearted. "Like brothers were he and my Prince. Theodred's death has hit him hard. He and Lady Eowyn grieve. But they are both resilient. Eomer wished to avenge his death by maintaining hold of Helm's Deep."

"I can't imagine Eomer wanted this," I said, nodding towards our traveling companions.

"He does not. Gandalf Greyhelm tried to convince the king that burying our citizens behind the walls of the fortress was not the way. The Wizard managed to convince Eomer, but the King continues to do what he thinks is best for the people."

"Gandalf?" I muttered. "I thought he had been banished from Rohan."

The Rider sighed. "A lot can happen in a matter of days, Miss Mallory. Especially in times of war. Allies are thin here. Gandalf and his party have proven their worth since their arrival."

"When did he get here?"

"Two days past." He paused. "Why so interested in the Wizard, Miss Mallory?" Well, there was no way to explain that one, so I shook my head, hoping that would put an end to that. Eomer was in Edoras. I'd ask him these questions when I got there. And the Rider nodded in return. "We make to depart again soon. I would prepare the children."

He walked away and I looked at my pained feet. "Here we go again, boys," I muttered.

* * *

I don't know what I was expecting, honestly. I mean, Eothain had told me that Aldburg was the second largest city in Rohan and it was small and it was seriously tiny with like, a hundred people. Edoras was basically the same thing. A small town with your basic crop of citizens. The one thing Edoras had that Aldburg didn't was this giant building on the top of a hill. Sporting the same flag and sigil as Aldburg's fortress, this wooden building was massive. In the glow of the evening sun, its thatched roof glittered and shined light around the area.

"See that?" Vanesse asked Fion, who was the most tired of the children. "That is Meduseld. Home of Theoden King."

The Riders that had accompanied us were giving out instructions to the people of Aldburg. Elfhelm came to Vanesse and I as the children leaned against us and each other for support on their tired legs. "Miss Mallory, Miss Vanesse, refugees carrying children will stay in Meduseld tonight. The King opens his doors until we depart for Helm's Deep in the morning."

"Thank you, Lord Elfhelm," Vanesse said, finding some kind of remaining strength and picking Mariel up in her arms. "We welcome the comfort of the King before continuing tomorrow."

"Peace be with you for the night," he said, turning to me. "For both of you and the little ones."

"Thanks," I said, Arton's hand still tightly around mine. "Let's go get some rest, you guys."

We walked to children up the hill towards Meduseld, but we didn't get far before we were stopped again.

"Mallory!" a voice called behind me. I turned and found Eomer, wearing his armor, still sporting those deep black bags under his eyes. He ran towards me and Arton let go of my hand, running towards Vanesse. The next thing I knew, his arms were around me, pulling me into an embrace that I certainly had not been expecting. He held me tightly and I found myself clinging back. Though it had only been about four days, I had missed him so much. Aldburg was a lonelier place without him.

"Eomer!" Another voice called. Female this time. It was a tall, blonde woman in a white dress, standing on the terrace of Meduseld. "Uncle and Lord Aragorn request your presence," she said in Common Tongue. I hadn't heard my native language in so long, it was shocking to me at first.

Eomer closed in eyes and took in a slow breath. "I will be there in a minute, Eowyn." Ah. His sister. The one everyone called The White Lady of Rohan. She fit the description. He turned back to me. "It brings me joy to see you safe."

"I think I've been safer than you, all things considered." I paused, wondering if I should say something. I took the chance. "I'm sorry about Theodred."

Eomer bowed his head, looking at my feet. "He is gone from the war. He will find peace in the next life."

I put my hand on his face, bringing his eyes back to mine. "It's okay to be sad."

He shook his head, forcing a small smile on his face. "I cannot be sad when you are back by my side." He grabbed my hand from his beard and held it in his own. "I know you must be tired, but when I am done, might I come and find you? My world has been a lonelier place without you in it"

I smiled and nodded. "Absolutely."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I'm taking liberties with the books and the movies to make this work to my advantage in telling this story. So I'm cherry picking details from both. Just wanted to clarify.

 **Chapter 10**

 **"I like to pretend that everything's alright. Because when everyone else thinks you're fine, sometimes you forget for awhile that you're not." - Unknown**

Eomer followed his sister back through the main doors of the hall as Vanesse and I corralled the orphans through a different entrance, supplied with food, water, and cots for sleeping. We managed to find seven in a corner for our rather large group. Vanesse went to the supplies to gather a reasonable dinner for us. While I was hungry the children seemed to be vamished as they scarfed down their food. Only Lia seemed to pick at her meal. I looked down at my own portion. Raw carrots, some kind of cold game, hard bread, and a handful of cherry tomatoes and grapes. Man, I could have made one hell of a stew for the kids if I had a pot. I felt terrible that the only thing they had eaten in days was cold and dried travel provisions. They needed a hot meal.

Fion practically tore his appart when Vanesse handed it to him. "Careful. You'll give yourself a stomach ache," I said.

"I'll be fine," he said through a mouth of carrot and tomato.

"Will you go see Lord Eomer?' Vanesse asked, sitting down beside me.

"He said he would find me. I'll wait for him here."

"I think Mallory likes Lord Eomer," Mariel said, taking a bite of the game.

"Maybe he likes you enough to Let you ride on his horse tomorrow instead of walk," Tara said. "Riding would be much nicer than walking."

I didn't know what to say. They were just kids, after all.

"Hush, the both of you," Vanesse said. "Fill your stomachs while you can."

I nodded thanks to her and she smiled, starting on her own plate of food.

My portion left me full, but unsatisfied. No doubt the kids were feeling the same way. I thought they would want some playtime before bed, but they were too tired. Everyone but Lia finished their food and almost immediately crawled into their cots and drifted off to sleep. Lia continued to eat her food slowly and pulled out her knitting when finished, as usual. "Who taught you to knit?" I asked her, sitting down beside her on her cot.

"My grandmother," she said. "My mama was always off with the eoreds. Grandmother died a few weeks before Mama. She was out tending to chickens and got a pain in her chest. She was gone the next morning."

The way she talked about it was strange. Her knitting never stopped, her tiny fingers moving through the yarn and wooden needles like clockwork.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yes, but they are with Bema now. That is what my uncle told me. He is a rider, like Mama. He couldn't take care of me, though. He was taken to Theodred Prince's eored to help fight the Orcs"

"It's alright to be sad about it," I said, echoing what I had said to Eomer moments ago.

"About what?" she asked.

"Everything. Your grandmother, your mama, even your uncle living so far away."

"You are very sad, Mallory," she said, never looking up from her needles. "Arton, Tara, and Mariel notice. Fion and I notice. Even Vanesse notices. And you are not happy. What good is being sad all of the time if I look like you do?"

Damn, that hurt. It hadn't even occurred to me that the children noticed anything about me. I didn't know how to respond to this perceptive, quiet girl. So I just patted her shoulder. "You should get to bed. The next few days will be full of more travel. You'll need your strength."

"I have strength, Mallory. My mama gave it to me."

* * *

Eomer never came. By the time Lia and Vanesse were asleep with the rest of the group, the whole of the room was in their cots with their eyes closed all around me. I wanted desperately to join them. I was exhausted. My feet ached from walking thirty miles over two days in these archless boots. But I wanted to see Eomer. I had so many questions about what was going on that I couldn't ask Elfhelm on the road. But more importantly, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Everyone in this world was so used to death. I had learned that the hard way after Eothain's passing and now I was learning that through Lia and Eomer. But that didn't mean he wasn't hurting. That he wasn't' in pain. He was there for me when I was mourning and I wanted to be there for him.

Someone had left a door ajar on the other side of the room. I could see a staircase from the light of a torch through the doorway. I wondered if it would lead me to him.

I tiptoed over the sleeping mothers and children and made my way over to that staircase. It was lit all the way to the top with small torches and eventually reached a door. I expected it to be locked, like most of the doors in Aldburg's barracks, but it wasn't. I creaked loudly open and led into a hallway. I shut it behind me and continued my stroll. It became apparent quickly that Meduseld was very, very big. Bigger than I was expecting. There were dozens of doors that led to who knows where. At least it was consistently well lit. I decided to attempt to make my way to the front door. That was the last place I had seen Eomer. It seemed like a good place to start.

It never occurred to me that I might get caught doing something I wasn't supposed to. I clearly wasn't a prisoner. And if anything did happen, I'm sure Eomer would be made aware and would vouch for me.

Eventually I reached a large door that was cracked, a large amount of torchlight coming out of the room into my hallway. I walked up to the door and peeked in.

It looked like what I imagined a throne room would look like. There was a large, wooden chair with a smaller one beside it, elevated by a small set of stairs. The larger one was cushioned in red plush and painted gold. There were large iron chandeliers hung by chains from the rafters in the ceiling, the candles they held all still lit though it was so late at night. The green and white banners of Rohan hung in abundance. Tapestries depicting events I had no clue of decorated every inch of the wooden walls. The large room was supported by giant, grand decorated pillars with horses carved into the wood. It was spectacular and by far, the most grand structure I had seen since arriving in this land.

There was some commotion. A group of men stood around a table in the center of the room and it was the strangest group I had ever seen.

The first man was old. Like really old. His stark white beard hung as long as his hair, past his waist. His face was wrinkled in years and years of life. Even from this crack in the door, I could see his bright blue eyes twinkling. They were kind, but also hard. These eyes had seen things I could never even imagine.

The one dressed mostly in black had hair and a beard just as dark as his clothes. A sword was strung at his hip and I could also see a knife strapped to the same belt. His clothes seemed light, made for easy travel. Nothing like the heavy Rohirric armor I had become so accustomed to.

One had hair almost as long as the old man. But while the old man's was white, this hair seemed to shine like silver. In fact, the whole of this creature seemed to shine with some kind of aura. And I say creature because he wasn't a man. I could see his ears, pointed sharply at their tips. This was and Elf.

The shortest was just that, short. A large ax was strapped to the back of his stout body. His head, covered in thick auburn hair and beard, came just up to the Elf's waist.

Eomer was there, but beside him, there was an older Rohir, with the same blond hair and hard features these people shared. But standing beside Eomer, I was able to place who this man could be. He had to have been Eomer's uncle, King Theoden. They shared the same green eyes, bold nose, and hard jawline. Eomer had told me his uncle was in poor health and was quite frail. But this man was not. He was strong.

"The men of Dunland attack fiercely across the borders," Theoden was saying. "Saruman's Orcs break the Gap too easily. This retreat is necessary to prevent further death to my people."

"I worry about the travel," the man in black said. "Three thousand Rohirrim crossing the plains on foot. And that is before they even reach Helm's Dike. Most of them women and children. Many elders."

"Last I checked," the king said. "Theoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan. I know my people. I know their strengths. Their willingness and determination. I do not need a Ranger from the North giving me instruction on how to lead them. Behind the Deeping Wall of the Hornburg, we will outlast Saruman's attacks."

"You have already been fooled by Saruman once, my lord," the old man dressed in white said. "If this is what you deem necessary, then we will support your measures. I only ask you do not underestimate him a second time."

"What are you doing here?" a voice whispered behind me.

It took everything I had not to scream out loud. I jumped away from the door and nearly out of my skin, clutching my chest.

"Eowyn?" I asked, doing my best to slow my breathing.

She didn't respond. She just grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the door, back down the hallway I had come from. "You are supposed to be in the lowest level of Meduseld," she snapped.

"I was looking for Eomer."

"He is occupied. Surely you must have known he would be busy."

She looked pissed. Her beautiful hair was tied behind her in braids and she wore a light sleeping gown. Like Eomer, she also looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, and her grey eyes were poking daggers right into my own.

"I should get back downstairs," I muttered, lifting my skirt and turning around, but she stopped me, grabbing my arm and pulling me back toward her.

"There are rules here," she said. "Rules you must follow outside of your safe haven of Aldburg. Eomer doesn't need you temping him during this time of war. Your little games will have to until this war is over."

"Little games? You don't know anything about me."

"Oh, don't I?" she said, her voice rising. "A lost abandoned traveler on the plains seeking refuge and shelter. And who better to provide than the king's nephew himself while you pour over his maps, eat his food, and sleep in his barracks?"

"Eomer took me in only after the woman who agreed to house me went back on that kindness. You think I want to be here? I would be happy to go back to my home, but if you know as much about me as you say you do, then I think we both know it's not that simple."

"Oh yes. A home far from this land. Perhaps not even of this land. Such things do not exist. You may have fooled Eomer with your doe-eyes and helpless nature, but I am no fool, Mallory Gilmore."

"I don't think you're a fool, Lady Eowyn. But in meeting you now, I do know one thing. You are scared. Probably more scared than me. And why that would be when you've been safe here inside this palace is unclear to me, but-,"

"How dare you," she said, her tall form towering over me. "You know nothing of what this war has done to me. The vileness I have suffered personally by the hands of Saruman and his henchman. Nothing you would ever have to experience with Eomer protecting you in Aldburg."

"Eowyn!" a voice shouted from down the hall.

"Eomer," she said, backing away from me. "Your friend left the guest quarters-"

"I was looking for you," I said, cutting her off before she said something to taint me. "I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"This council was going late into the night. I thought you would fall asleep. I planned to find you in the morning."

"Uncle has only just been freed from Saruman's hold," Eowyn said. "Anyone roaming his halls in the dead of night is suspicious."

"Do you really think I would let Mallory sleep in my home if I thought she was capable of something so evil, Eowyn? Come, Mallory. I will walk you back to the lower level. It is late, Eowyn. I wish for you to be awake in the morning to farewell you when we depart."

"Eomer-"

"To bed, Eowyn. Leave this for the morning, I beg you."

And with that, she left us alone.

"I didn't mean to cause suspicion," I said quickly. "I was just worried when you didn't show up."

"This war occupies most of my time, I'm afraid," he said as he began leading me through the halls. "But I'm afraid Eowyn is right. Wandering Meduseld at night is not the wisest of choices at this time. My sister is right to be cautious."

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Most, I'm afraid. We could hear her in the throne room. I left to see what was going on."

"I can find my own way back if you need to be there," I said.

He shook his head. "I would much rather help you than be back there."

"Who were those people?" I asked "They're not Rohirrim."

"Three of them form a band of travelers. The Dwarf, the Elf, and the Ranger. I met them a few days prior on the road looking for their lost friends. I believe them to be trustworthy and assets to Rohan in the war."

"And the old guy with the long hair?"

Eomer shook his head. "I think we should leave this until morning, Mallory."

"You said you would rather be with me than back in that room. Why put it off until tomorrow?"

He sighed. "That is Gandalf Greyhelm. The Wizard Eothain once spoke to you of."

I stopped walking. "The Wizard you told me was not welcome in the Mark? The one who had been banned from you uncle's halls? These halls?"

"It is not that simple. I am learning that things in this war will never be that simple."

"I want to talk to him," I said, turning around, but Eomer grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back to him.

"I will help you, Mallory. I have promised this and will never go back on that promise. But Gandalf is best left at the side of my uncle. I will get you home and get you his help if you need it, but you do not at this time. Right now, Gandalf must help my uncle. He is the best chance to persuade him against these ridiculous travels. There will be plenty of time for you to speak with him tomorrow."

I had no rational argument against that. Of course Eomer would choose to help his people as a priority over me.

"We should get you to bed, Mallory," he said, grabbing my hand and continuing the walk down the long dark hallway. And I let him hold my hand until we reached the staircase. And I went to bed, wondering what would happen tomorrow.


	11. Chapter 11

**"There really is confusion out there. Finding common ground sounds good. But the reality is, a lot of people on all sides have a stake in the fight" - Charles Haynes**

Chapter 11

The stone floor of the lowest level of Meduseld's halls was cold. Even with a cot beneath me, I could feel the chill of the stones seep through the thin fabrics and hay cushion. I didn't sleep. The thought of finally getting to talk to the one entity of hope that could possibly help me return home made me too anxious. Gandalf the Wizard was no longer considered a threat to Rohan and he could help me. Of course he needed to help these people, the people of his land. I wasn't unrealistic. But we would be traveling a long distance on the road in the morning, and I would have plenty of time to pick his brain. To read signs in his bright blue eyes and attempt to solve this magic puzzle of how I came to this land.

I was foolish to think I could be so lucky.

The morning was a blur, gathering the children, their things, and food for the trip. The kitchen maids of Meduseld had provided what they could to us travelers, but it wasn't much. The food rations in Rohan grew smaller and smaller by the day as workers either left their crops for the Hornburg or Orcs took them with fire. The men from the northwest border of Rohan had reportedly also sided with Saruman the White. The Men of Dunland, Vanesse told me. She called them the Wildmen. Combined with the Orcs, the Westfold of Rohan saw hardly any crops spared.

By the time we managed to gather our provisions, it was nearly time to depart for the Hornburg. Carts outside of Meduseld had been filled with the remaining food and cots for us travelers when we reached our destination. I looked around, but I couldn't see Eomer.

"Do you wish to go look for him?" Vanesse asked when she noticed my wandering eyes.

"Would you mind?"

"I think I can handle the children for now. But come back to us before we depart."

"Thank you," I said, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. I made for the front of the traveling line, but I did not see him. Even Firefoot was absent. I looked around and spotted a stable beside Meduseld's massive frame. Eomer wouldn't even let squires tack Firefoot. He always did it himself. I figured this was as good a place to look as any.

Inside it was nearly empty, save a few stable hands gathering the few remaining horses. Near the back of the stall, however, I finally found some luck.

"Hey buddy," I said, noticing my speckled friend. Firefoot raised his head from his hay at the sound of my voice. He was tacked and ready to go, but still, no Eomer. "You ready for this stupid journey, yet?" He let out a huff and brought his head to my outstretched hand.

"Not many outside of Eorl's house have such luck with Mearas bred horses," a deep voice said behind me. I turned and found the face of the Ranger from the night before.

"What breed of horses?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Mearas."

I shook my head. "Don't know what those are, sorry."

"Are you Gondorian? Or do you hale from further north?"

"Why?"

"All Rohirrim know of the Mearas. The first breed brought to Middle-earth by Bema himself."

More magic. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. I considered lying, but this man was a friend of Gandalf. If I wanted help, it did me no good to lie anymore. "I hale from neither, I'm afraid."

"You must be Eomer's traveling friend, I take it."

"Mallory. My name is Mallory."

"I am Aragorn, miss," he said with a small bow of his head. "Eomer spoke of you, but he told me little, I am afraid. Your argument with Lady Eowyn last night brought many questions. Your lord was reluctant to answer too many."

"Why do people say that?" I asked. "That he is 'my lord'? If you know that I am not Rohirrim, you know I have no lords."

He grinned from the corner of his mouth. "I suppose I stand corrected."

"I did come to find Eomer, though. Do you know where he is?"

"He is sharing partings with his sister. She stays to command Meduseld in Theoden's absence."

I rolled my eyes, keeping a steady pet on Firefoot's nose. "Guess with her sense of privilege she can get out of this stupid walk."

"I do not agree with the travels either, Miss Mallory, but do not judge the White Lady too harshly. You know not what she has been through. I suspect staying behind the walls of this house is not what she desires at all. My judgement says she would switch places with you in a heartbeat. I must admit your animosity towards her has me flustered."

"I do nothing to her and she berates me in the middle of the night."

"You are a stranger wandering the halls of her home. Grima Wormtongue's similar actions dealt her grave consequences, I suspect."

"Who?"

"Theoden's former advisor. He dwells here no longer, thank the Valar. May I offer you some advice?"

I nodded.

"Do not judge those whose story you do not know. From what Eomer has told me of you, that advice should serve you well."

I looked away from him and back at Firefoot, whose eyes had closed as I continued to pet him. For the first time in along time, someone had found a way to put me in my place. And I didn't know how to respond.

"Mallory!" someone called from the entrance. It was Eomer.

"Your friend has found you," Aragorn said. "Perhaps we can speak more on the road?"

I nodded again and he walked away, grasping arms with Eomer on his way out the door. "You should be with Vanesse and the children.

"She told me to come find you before we leave."

"Then why the need to find me first thing in the morning? I would have found you on the road. This party is not that large."

"You wouldn't be too busy with your uncle?"

"I wish you would take my word that spending time with you is greatly prefered over the company of my uncle."

"I take it Gandalf wasn't able to persuade him against this like you had hoped."

"Alas, no."

"And will I be able to finally talk to him on this journey as well?"

Eomer closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "Mallory, Gandalf won't be traveling with this party."

I took my hand from Firefoot's nose, balling it into a fist. "What?"

"He left early this morning, before daybreak. I know not where he went."

I shook my head and made for the exit. "One promise after another."

But Eomer grabbed me and pulled me back toward him. "I know you are not from this land and our problems are not of your concern," he said, his temper showing in his eyes for the first time in a long time. "But perhaps you could attempt to grasp the concept that our world does not center on getting you back to your home It was a priority and a promise I have made, but things are different now. I am no longer just a Marshal. A throne that I never wanted is now a part of my inevitable future. And with that throne comes responsibilities that put certain promises on hold. This war is my ultimate responsibility and until it is over-"

"What if it's never over?" I said, yanking my arm from his grasp. "What if you don't win and everyone dies? You get to die on your lands with your people. Me? I'm stuck here. My friend's will not only never see me again, they won't know why. What little family I have left will never understand why I just vanished. Did you ever think of that? I'm not asking for your help anymore, Eomer. I'll figure it out on my own."

I turned back around. "Mallory, please."

"The party will leave soon. I should get back to Vanesse and the kids."

* * *

"She throws spiteful words, your lass," Aragorn said as I pulled Firefoot out of the barn.

"Spiteful, yet not untrue."

"Your words speak truths as well, my new friend."

"When two opposing sides both speak truths, where can the common ground be reached?"

"A question for the ages."

"Does Gandalf not want to help her? He left with such haste and I worried her story was the reason."

Aragorn shook his head. "Gandalf rode for a different reason. I'll not pretend to know exactly why but your Mallory is not the reason."

"She is not mine."

He laughed. "You both are so insistent that neither belong to the other."

"What do you mean?"

"She says you are not her lord/ You say she is not your maiden. Yet your paths are now so intertwined with promises, intentions, and time spent together and apart. Eowyn is perceptive, more than you give her credit."

"You see only what little you know of her. I have not told you her full story."

"I respect that you wish her the privacy and privilege to disclose what she wishes when she wished to disclose it. But I do not speak of just her. Perhaps she is taming a horselord?"

I wanted to deny it, but it did no good. If Eowyn was perceptive, than Aragorn was omniscient. His years of experience did not show through his body, but it showed through his eyes. "She doesn't wish to tame a horselord, Aragorn. She only wishes to return to her home. And I cannot blame her. To be stripped of a peaceful life with little loss, worry, and hardship only to be thrown into this world of war and unrest…"

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps start with that common ground you wish to find. You cannot help her find a way home soon. Maybe give her a reason to stay. At least for a little while."


	12. Chapter 12

**"** **When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind." - Patrick Rothfuss**

Chapter 12

"You look sad again," Lia said as our feet started moving once more across the vast plains of the Riddermark.

"I am not sad," I replied, Arton's hand grasped tightly in my own.

"It's alright to be sad, Mallory," she said, grasping the straps of her pack before jogging to catch up with Vanesse and the others. .

"Little twit," i muttered.

"What?" Arton asked.

"Nothing." I didn't mean it. Lia wasn't a twit. She was perceptive. All of these people were. How was it that they were able to read my face so well? Not just the Rohirrim, but Aragorn the Ranger as well. He didn't know me from Eve, and yet he seemed to know just how my mind worked. What to say to put me in my place. They were all human, like me. Well, at least that's what I assumed. Why was I unable to read them like they read me? How did I read the people in my life back home.

I overheard another traveler say we had reached four leagues. It was now midday. The sun was high in the sky. Winter was over now and spring was here. The sun shown hot above us, using it's rays to attempt to waken the flowers beneath the ground.

"Mallory, I'm thirsty!" Arton complained.

I grabbed my waterskin, uncapped it and handed it to him. He brought it to his lips, but it came back down with a look of disappointment on his face. "It's empty."

"Then you drank it all," I said. Of course I had been sharing it with some of the others, but between them and Arton, I had had maybe four small sips. Sweat lingered on the back of my neck. I hadn't bathed since we had left Aldburg. "We'll pass a stream soon."

"But I want it now!" he complained.

"Arton," I said, taking a deep breath and bringing myself down to his level. "We are all thirsty, but we can make it without water. We'll find some soon, I promise."

He wasn't satisfied. "Thirsty! Thirsty!" he cried, shaking the waterskin in my face.

"Arton, please," I begged. Though he was only five, he was usually more well behaved than this. These days of traveling were taking its toll on the entire group. Not just the orphans, Vanesse and myself, but I could see it in the eyes of our fellow refugees that they wanted nothing of this temper tantrum.

"The lad knows what he wants!" a deep voice said, coming up behind me and gently tapping the small of my back. I was about to jump away from his uncomfortable touch, when I realized he hadn't meant anything by it. It was just as high as he could comfortably reach. The Dwarf from Gandalf's party handed Arton his own waterskin and the boy took it, gulping down the contents.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, but still embarassed by Arton's outburst.

The Dwarf shook his head. "No need for thanks, fair maiden. I worried about the little ones when the Horse King proposed this trek. Fleeing to the mountains," his huffed though his thick beard. "Ridiculous. Stand and fight is what I say. A Dwarf King would never flee."

"Even to protect the children of his land?" I asked. But I realized that sounded supportive of this mission.

"Children would be defended, but through the smash of axes, not behind stone walls."

Arton handed the skin back to the Dwarf. "Why are you so short?" he asked.

"Arton!"

"No, no. Do not scold him," the Dwarf said, grabbing Arton by the shoulders and lifting him up off the ground. "Dwarves may be short, but they are strong, small lad."

He put Arton back on the ground and without another word, the child took off towards Vanesse, a fright in his eyes.

"I think you startled him back into place."

The Dwarf chuckled. "Does no good to argue with the little ones. Show them your point, however and they will back down."

I smiled. "I'm Mallory."

His eyes lit up. "Eomer's lass?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

"Gandalf was sorry to leave without speaking to you."

"He was?"

"Aye. Said he would help when the time was right, if he could. Lord Eomer made a convincing argument for you. Though he didn't explain much."

"It's hard to explain."

He held up a gloved hand. "Many people need help. Gandalf does what he can. And his aid will come, lass. Gandalf isn't one for failures."

"Thank you...um…"

"Gimli," he said with a small bow. "Son of Gloin."

I smiled. "It's good to know that someone out there is at least a little interested in helping me. Thank you, Gimli."

"Not just one person," a voice said behind me.

I turned and looked up into the face of the Dwarf's traveling companion. The Elf with silver hair. Up close in the sunlight and not hidden behind squinting eyes and torchfire, I gasped. He was...well, beautiful. His shining silver hair was mostly loose, save the front strands which were braided behind his head. Across is back was a bow and quiver and at his waist were two thin swords. His features were perfect. Symmetrical and sharp, but with sinewy thickness that ran across his whole body. His eyes were a harsh but bright green, showing a fierceness I had never encountered. I had never seen someone so handsome. So unnaturally fair. And I didn't like it.

He bowed slightly. "I have been waiting for an appropriate moment to speak to you, Mallory Gilmore."

"Why?" I asked. Just like Aragorn, he did not know me. I doubted that, just because he was an Elf, that he could help my situation any better than another in this traveling column. And if he wanted me to relay my story to him, I didn't wish to. I assumed if he knew my name than he already knew my story. While Gimli was a Dwarf, the only difference I could see between us was height. This Elf was unnatural. Different. Scary.

"Mallory!" Mariel called with tears in her eyes, running up to me a tugging on my skirt. "Tara tripped me."

"Are you hurt?" I said, turning my back on the Elf and kneeling down beside her. She pulled her own skirt up, showing a scrape in her knee. I huffed. My water was all gone and I had none to wash her scrape with. I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and picked her up, grateful for this excuse to bring me away from the Elf. I cast him an attempt at an apologetic look and made my way further down the column, towards Vanesse, not looking back at the strange creature.

* * *

"They will attack tonight," Theoden said from atop his steed.

"We haven't the numbers to fight an army bred by Saruman," I argued. And it was true. "With the eoreds alone, there are only about fifteen hundred men, in total."

"With the men in the refugees, we could increase that number to two thousand."

"Uncle, what men in the refugees? All the men of fighting age in Aldburg have joined the third eored. I assume the same for the other two."

"There are men no longer fighting who once served their time well. Their arms can still wield swords. And the younger ones have little practical training, but have watched their fathers take arms."

"You speak of elders and children," I said, agast.

"I speak of the Riddermark's people who would defend her despite seeing too many or too few winters."

"Is this really what all this comes down to? Is that why you ordered refugees to Helm's Deep? Because the numbers of the eoreds are too few?"

"Eomer, you have always been an old soul. Wise for your age and a great leader. Do you really think the people of the Mark would rather succumb to Saruman's forces unwillingly in their homes, or would these people rather fight for their land and country in one great stand, even if it is to be the last stand?"

 _But is it really your right to make the decision for them?_ I wanted to ask. But I knew better. Aragorn had already tried to persuade my uncle against this ride and now he was all but lost in his favor. Gandalf's favor was spared only through his recent show of dedication by getting rid of the Worm of Meduseld.

"The people will follow your bidding, my lord," I said, rather than protest like I wanted to. I was tired. Sleep had not found me easily in the few days since I had left Aldburg. I had tried to tell myself that it was because of Theodred's death. Because of the impending battle waiting on us at the Hornburg. But I knew in my deepest parts it was because I was near her no longer. I could no longer check on her before retiring to my own quarters. I shared my meals with my men, not in her quiet room of the barracks. We never talked much, but that never bothered me. When I was with the men, there was no silence. No sense of solitude. No peace. She was my peace.

"Eomer, my sister-son?" Theoden asked, bringing me back from my thoughts. "Where has your mind gone?"

"To the nearing battle, Uncle," I lied. But he saw through it.

"You thoughts stray to that girl. They have been since she arrived. Since before."

He was always so perceptive. I had almost forgotten. In the years since Grima had tampered with his mind, that part of him faded. But now it was back and there was no hiding my thoughts from him. "I have angered her. Again."

"Your thoughts dwell where they shouldn't," he said. "Gandalf has promised her his aid, when the time comes. That should be enough. Your focus on the people is what matters most now."

 _Now that Theodred is dead and I am to take his place_. It was true. To deny it would be catastrophic to the fate of Rohan and I loved her too much, had given up too much, to refuse her my service.

"Speak to her when we arrive," Theoden said. "Put your thoughts of her behind and clear your mind before battle."

I didn't want to, not yet. But I agreed. "Aye, Uncle. As you wish."

* * *

I couldn't carry Mariel for long. My feet ached too much from the weight and my arms cried for freedom. When her tears passed, I made Tara apologize and the two were as they had been before. Children were so simple. With age, you are supposed to grow and learn and get better at life. But sometimes children were more put together than us grownups. It's why I became a teacher. Sometimes I felt like I learned more from them than they learned from me.

Gimli and the Elf traveled side-by-side the remainder of the way, Aragorn with them. He shot me glances every now and then, but I ignored them. The only thing that had been made abundantly clear to me was that I was not going home until this war was over. ANd the less of a distraction I was, the sooner that could be accomplished.

We reached the Dike by sundown. The crashing waters of the river were loud and with the fortess in sight, the feet of the column moved faster, yearning for rest. The Dike lay at the east of Helm's Deep. A large forest to the right. From where I stood, I could see our destination.

Though more similar to Aldburg than Meduseld, it still couldn't compare. It stood high into the air, larger than any man-made structure I had seen since falling into this land. It was built into the mountains, like it was a part of the nature. A giant stone wall surrounded it, and it seemed impenetrable. Everyone in the column spoke of how these walls had never been breached and I now understood the king's confidence in it. Looking at it in all of its grandeur, I couldn't see a tank tearing it down, much less Orcs, Wildmen, and their swords.

Elfhelm directed the women and children to various rooms inside. The soldiers and citizens who had already arrived were busy distributing cots, chamber pots, water, and food to these rooms. But they were small. Vanesse and the littlest ones were given one room. Myself, Lia, and Fion given another beside it.

Fion fell onto his hay cot in minutes, collapsing and sleeping within minutes. Lia took to her knitting once more and seemed just about as thrilled with this setup as I was. So we sat in silence as I stared up at the stone ceiling, waiting for whatever would come next. It didn't take long.


	13. Chapter 13

**"Love and war always go together. They are the peaks of human emotion. Evil and good, beauty and ugliness."- Rick Riordan**

Chapter 13

Sleep found me easier than I had expected. Through the small window of our room, the sun was falling deeper and deeper into the sky, and I fell with it, my eyes heavy with exhaustion. My feet aching with the pain of the road.

But it didn't last. A knock sounded on my door not long after. I could still see the orange glow of the setting sun. Fion moaned and rolled over in his cot. Lia looked up from her knitting.

"Hello?" I said, opening the door. Theoden's head advisor was there. An old man, his face weathered and eyes sullen. Gamling, the people called him.

"Forgive me, miss," he said with a small bow to the head. "I have come to retrieve Fion, Son of Fingran."

I turned. Fion opened his eyes at the mention of his name. "What do you want with him?" I asked.

"Theoden King has declared that all men of fighting age will stand here at the Hornburg tonight."

"Fion is twelve years old," I said, grabbing the knob of the door and closing it slightly. "He won't be doing any fighting."

"He can hold steel. He can fight." Gamling grabbed the door and pushed it open, out of my grasp. "Come, lad. To the smithy."

Fion stood, his face just as confused as I felt. "Fion, sit back down," I demanded.

"You are his caretaker," Gamling said. "And I sense you are good at that job, miss. But this is not your call to make. The boy is a citizen of Rohan. He will defend her tonight."

"He is a child!" I yelled. "He's never held steel in his life. Your king speaks of the future of Rohan. Of a time when you will resew your crops. Rebuild your villages. How can you do that if the children of your lands are slaughtered?"

" _Our_ king," Gamling growled. " _Our_ lands. _Our_ crops. _Our_ villages. I know who you are, Mallory Gilmore, Traveler of Worlds. I know the tales Lord Eomer has spoken of you. I know not what magic brought you here, but it brought you here nonetheless and since, you have reaped the hospitality of the Rohirrim and the fortress of Aldburg. You, who have been given Rohan as a home, would ask her king to lack in her defences? If we have a chance to rebuild after this war, it will be because strong young men like him are working those defences. Not sitting in the caves, listening to their countrymen die."

"It's alright, Mallory," Fion said, walking towards us. "I will go."

"No, Fion."

"Yes," he said grabbing my hand. "I know we don't talk about it much, but you are not from here. This is what we do."

"But you don't have to," I argued, a tear falling down my cheek.

He shook his head. "I do. Theoden King has asked it of me. Rohan has asked it of me." He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tightly and I buried my face is his straw-colored hair. "Thank you for taking care of me, Mallory," he said, his voice muffled by my chest. And he broke the hug too soon, walking out the door and past Gamling.

The old man turned to me. "Perhaps in the future," he said, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "You can learn from the people of Rohan. Not try to change them to fit your own bidding." And he made to leave.

"Lord Gamling!" Lia called, dropping her knitting and jumping up from her cot. "I want to come with Fion."

His hard face broke a small smile. I was too flabbergasted, too silenced from Gamling's words to say anything. He knelt down to her level. "How many years have you, little miss?"

"Ten," she said, pulling her mother's knife from its sheath at her waist. "My mother was a shieldmaiden. Limwen, Daughter of Liden."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I met your mother once, child. A fierce warrior she was. Her loss was mourned by my fellows in the First Eored. She would be proud of your will to fight. But you have not yet seen enough winters to fight in this battle."

"If Fion can go, I want to as well." Tears were welling up in her eyes.

Gamling looked up at me and then back to Lia. "The women and children will go to the caves," he said. "All the men will be fighting. The defenses of the caves will be low. Perhaps you can serve our cause from below. If the evil breaks our hold, may I ask you to defend it?"

"That is not the same," she argued.

"No, it is not. But it is what we need. Can you give Rohan something she needs?"

Lia looked down at her mother's knife, her knuckles turning white against its hilt. And she nodded, putting her knife back in its sheath.

"Lord Gamling," I said, following him out the door. "I love these kids. I love Fion. Please, watch over him."

The old man gave me a hard stare before nodding his head. "I bid Bema to bless him tonight. I will not place him in the front lines. None of the younger lads."

"Thank you," I said, wiping my tears away.

"The women and children are to make for the caves by sundown. Dusk does not last long in the Mark. Gather your children. Make there with haste."

* * *

"Fion will kill a thousand Orcs!" Arton yelled excitedly.

"Lord Gamling just took him away?" Vanesse asked, her own tears sprouting in her eyes.

"It is the king's bidding. Gamling said he would keep him from the front lines. It was the best I could ask for."

"We need to make for the caves," she said, wiping her eyes and grabbing her travel pack once more. "Come, little ones. Grab your things."

"But we just got here!" Tara protested. "I'm tired."

"We can rest in the caves," I said.

* * *

Dank, wet, and cold. That's what the caves were. Packed too, with nearly a thousand women and children. Riders of Rohan ushered us inside the small entrances, but I was stopped before I made it through the door. "Lord Eomer has asked to speak with you before the battle begins, Miss Mallory," one of them said to me. I didn't know his name but I recognized his face from the Third Eored. The eored that had rescued me on the plains nearly seven months ago.

"Eomer," I said, purposely leaving out his title, "can suck an egg."

"It is not a request. He waits for you at the west entrance to the caves."

Tara's hand was wrapped around my own. "Go with Vanesse," I said. "I will find you soon."

I followed the Rider's directions up the west set of stone stairs. Sure enough, he was there, a torch in his hand to light the way through these dark caves.

"What do you want?" I demanded. Women and children were still making their way through the door.

"To speak with you in private," he said. "Come."

"The kids are waiting for me. They're terrified and you want me to follow you somewhere private? I don't want to talk to you, Eomer."

"Damn you, impossible woman. I am not asking." With that, he grabbed my hand, pulling me away and through another set of chamber doors.

I protested the whole way, but he continued to pull me, the crowd of people too distracted to notice. "Let go of me!" I yelled. And he did when we crossed through the doors, shutting them behind him and placing his torch in a holder on the wall. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I do not know!" he said, turning towards me. We were in one of the small chamber rooms. "I have not known for months, that is the problem. Something has been wrong with me since that day Eothain found you on the plains, wearing your strange clothes. You with your strange dialect. Your brown hair with tints of red in the sunlight. Your soft hands and kind words to Firefoot. Your eyes when they crinkle at your smile, however rare it is. Your call for aid that I cannot just simply deny, no matter how hard I try."

His hands grabbed my shoulders tightly, but still gentle. "Eomer, I-"

"You are the only person behind the walls of Aldburg to refuse the use of my title," he interrupted. "And it has never once bothered me. I think I feared if I had asked you to use it, then you would stop saying my name at all." His right hand moved to my cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

"Our odds for this battle are slim," he said softly. "I could not face it without peace between us. Without telling you these thoughts that I have been keeping to myself."

"Please," I begged. "Please stop. I'm sorry for all the terrible things I said. You don't have to choose between helping me and helping your people. Pick your people, Eomer. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Then I forgive you. If you came here to apologize, I forgive you." I knew he hadn't come here for forgiveness. I wasn't stupid. But I had to delay his words. If the call for battle came before he could get them out then I wouldn't have to hear him say what he came to say. I wouldn't have to hurt him. "There is no ill will between us. Go to the battle knowing that-"

His lips landed upon mine, shutting me up. Now both his hands grasped my face between them. He wasn't wearing gloves. His hands were so warm, so gentle. From above us, I could hear small sounds of thunder through the stone. The clopping of horse hooves in the stable. He smelled of the road and his lips were chapped from the sun and weather we had endured from the travel. I didn't kiss him back.

When he pulled away, I was still stunned with silence. This wasn't right. I didn't want this. "Have I frightened you?" he whispered.

 _Yes_ , I wanted to say. _I am terrified that now there is finally something to keep me here. Keep me from going home_. But I couldn't. The words wouldn't come out. I just stared into those green eyes of his. Green as the grass that grew on the plains of this land. Eyes that had surveyed me time and time again over silent meals and readings of maps. Eyes that could read me better than I could read them.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said. "I meant to bring some small comfort to you before you go below to wait for all of this to end. Though, I must admit this is a selfish act as well." He gave pause for me to respond, but I still couldn't bring words to my mouth. My lips were frozen shut. When I said nothing, he continued. "I wanted you to know. I wanted to know someone down below would be sending me good will during the fight. Theoden told me to make peace with you before the battle. I didn't want to. But the closer it draws, I know the regrets I would have. The burden I would have on my mind." He paused again, a little frustration growing in his eyes. "Mallory, please say something."

I wanted to tell him no. I wanted tell him that I couldn't choose him over my home. But I also couldn't break his heart. Send him out there to the unknown with no hope. He needed hope and I needed him to live. "I will send you good will from the caves," I whispered.

He smiled and it made my heart ache. "Do you still have the blanket I gave you all those months ago?"

I nodden, pulling my pack off of my back and bringing it out. He pulled a knife from his boot and cut a piece of the corner off. "I'll keep it as a token during battle," he said. "And when it is over, we can have peace again."

I couldn't respond. I just nodded and felt a tear slip out of my eye.

He wiped it away with his thumb. "Do not cry, fair Mallory. It will all be over in the morrow." He grabbed my hand and pulled my knuckles to his mouth, kissing it gently, then made to leave the room.

"Eomer," I said, and he turned back. "Fion is up there. Please keep him safe."

He nodded. "I will see the lad through as little harm as possible. I promise."

Another promise. Another dreadful time of waiting for something to happen.

* * *

It didn't take long to find Vanesse and the kids. They were waiting in a spot near the entrance where I had left them. Tara, Mariel, and Arton were asleep underneath a few thin blankets. Lia's eyes were fixated on the door which closed behind me with a thud, her knife held tightly in her hand. I was the last one to enter the caves. I heard the thud of the boardlock on the other side.

"What did Lord Eomer want this time?" Vanesse asked as I sat down beside her. She handed me a bundle of food. Grapes, a few slices of apple, and a small cut of cheese. But I didn't eat it. I just picket at the peel of the apple, listening to the bustle of people around me. The drops of water that landed through the cracks in the cave walls.

"Mallory?" she asked again.

"He wanted us to send him good will during the battle. He promised to watch over Fion," I said.

"Is that all?"

"It's enough," I said. And it would have been had that been all that he had said.

"You should get some sleep after you eat."

"Lia needs sleep too," I argued.

"Do not speak for me," the little girl said, her eyes still fixated on the door.

I didn't want to argue. Not again. So I just pulled Eomer's blanket from my pack once again. I didn't want to use it, but it was the only one I had.

"The edge if fraying," Vanesse said, pointing at the corner Eomer had just cut. "I can fix it for you."

"Don't bother," I whispered, rolling over and away from her, closing my eyes and forcing sleep to come. Above me, I could swear I heard the soft thud of drums.

* * *

It felt like the most sleep I had gotten in days, but it still couldn't have been much. A rustling beside me cause me to wake. It was Mariel, crawling under the blanket with me. "Mallory, I'm thirsty."

I huffed, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. Vanesse had lay beside the other two sleeping children, her breathing slow and eyes shut. Lia still hadn't moved.

I stretched. "I'll find us some water," I whispered, standing and making my way through the crowds, towards a barrel with a ladle. Wooden cups had been placed beside it and I spooned the water into two.

"Nifara," a voice whispered behind me.

"Frieda," I jumped, earning some shushes from the sleeping women around me.

"I did not mean to startle you," she said, her hands behind her back. "I only meant to check on you. And apologize."

"You have nothing to apologize for-"

"Oh, but I do," she said. "Eothain was all I had left in this world. Our parents long gone. Our little sister succumbing to pox when we were but children. But we survived it all, him and me." she nodded her head toward a nook in the wall and I followed her, sitting down on a rock across from her. "He was a kind-hearted man. Foolish in the wiles of women, but kind-hearted nonetheless. I was never like him. Not naturally anyway. He brought out the best in me. And when he was gone…"

"Frieda, you did so much for me in those first few months. So much that I could never repay you. And I know Eorlingas do not act out kindness for reward, but I mean it. And I never meant for Eothain to die."

"I know, nifara. I know. But I still owe you this apology. I had forgotten that I am not the only one to lose family in these hard times. I see that more clearly than ever now. I wish for the ill will between us to pass. I fear I will be busy at the Hornburg for days tending to the men who fight for us above. I know you have not the stomach for my work, but I fear the healers will need help. Let our ill will pass so that we may work together when all of this is over."

"Of course."

"Bring water to the children," she said. "Aldburg owes you thanks for taking their care under your wing."

"Aldburg owes me nothing," I said, standing. "I am the one who owes Aldburg."

BOOM!

The sound came from above and the sleeping women and children around us were awakened in a frenzy. Babies started to cry, mothers became frantic.

"What was that?" I yelled over the voices around us.

"I know not!" Frieda yelled back. Small stones started falling from the ceiling. Back in the orphan's nook, the children were huddled around Vanesse, their faces frightened. Lia had stood, raising her knife to the door. "Go to your children, nifara," Frieda said, pushing me away.

I obeyed, dropping the cups and running over, pulling Arton into my arms. He cried, his body shaking in my arms. "It's alright," I muttered. "We're gonna be alright."

I had no way of knowing if that were true. Only one truth had awakened to me in that moment.

This was truly a war they were fighting up there. And whatever that had been now made that abundantly clear.


	14. Chapter 14

**"** **I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."** **―** **Gilda Radner**

Chapter 14

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

That's what we did down there. All we could do, really.

May Bema and God bless Fion. May Bema and God bless Eomer.

I never prayed. Not since my mother had died. God became lost to me then. What use was He if He constantly abandoned me? What use was this Bema, the Great Rider when I had made no progress on my journey home? But down here, more helpless and useless than I had ever been in my life, I prayed. I had to. It was all I could do. Send Eomer the good will he had asked for. I wished that he had never shared his secrets before the battle. I wished that Fion was nowhere near whatever that crash was. The rocks in the ceiling fell more frequently now. We had pulled the blankets over our heads in hopes to shield us from the falling. The little girls clung to my skirts. Arton was wrapped in my arms. Vanesse begged for Lia to join us under the blankets, but she refused. She had made a promise to Gamling.

May Bema and God bless Gamling. May Bema and God bless Theoden. Bless Elfhelm. Bless Aragorn. Bless Gimli. Bless the Elf whose name I still did not know.

May Bema and God bless the Rohirrim.

Slowly but surely, the rocks fell less frequently. The faint sounds of feet above quieted down. It had been hours since the crash. Surely it was morning now. Eomer had said this would be over in the morrow. Peace would be here soon.

The sound of a horn began to reverberate through the stone walls. I could feel it cascade through my whole body.

"The Horn of Helm Hammerhead," Vanesse whispered, looking at me for the first time in hours. "Eorlingas move to make a stand."

The rocks soon ceased falling altogether. Mothers around us pulled the blankets from their children's heads.

More waiting.

A sound at the door. All of the doors. The boardlocks being removed. I gripped Arton tighter. No more fighting. Please God. Please Bema. No more fighting.

It was a Rider, his chainmail covered in the thick, black blood I had seen Frieda clean off of the skins of men back in the healer's quarters of Aldburg. Orc blood.

"Victory!" he shouted. My arms let loose of Fion for the first time in hours. "Victory to Rohan!"

It was over. The waiting was over.

* * *

Vanesse had no one to find, save Fion. And since we couldn't both go, I elected myself. Eomer and Gamling had both promised to keep him safe. I had to see those promises fulfilled.

Our group was one nearest to the north doors. I jumped and sprinted back up the uneven stairs, past the soldiers who were descending to find their families below.

Morning sunlight, a sunlight as golden as the hairs of Eorlingas shown when I reached the open air. But while the sight of sun was beautiful, the stench of the air was too foul. I fell, coughing and retching as it reached my nostrils. She smell of shit and death mixed with the acid of the Orc blood filled me and I had to adjust. What little was left in my stomach found its way to the cobbled stones beneath me.

"Miss, you shouldn't be here." I felt a hand on my back, gently patting me as i dry heaved, the smell never leaving. "The sight and smell is too foul."

My eyes had adjusted to the brightness and I composed myself, bringing my head back up. The blue eyes of a young soldier met mine. And I made the mistake of looking away.

The once grande sight of Helm's Deep was now littered with the dead. Rohirrim bodies scattered, their chainmail soaked with blood. But there were more than just Eorlingas. Bodies of...creatures littered the corridors. Creatures of blackness. Moldy skin and rotted, pointed teeth. Ears similar to the Elf from Gandalf's party, but while his unearthly beauty had scared me, their faces sent pure terror to my very core, even in death. Their armor was painted with the White Hand Eomer had shown me before riding to Edoras.

The forest to the east and south moved like a fierce wind was blowing, but I could not feel a morning breeze here. Here, everything was too still. Too dead.

"Let's get you back inside, Miss," the soldier spoke again. But I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with fear. He continued to tug at me, but he was small. Probably one of the boys Gamling had recruited. Little muscle, no fierceness.

"Let me take it from here, lad," a deep voice said. Its face knelt down in front of my own, blocking the view of death. "Mallory Gilmore?" he asked. It was the old man from Edoras. The one with the blue eyes full of years. No, not Man. Wizard. Gandalf.

My eyes blurred with tears as sobs escaped my mouth. He placed his long staff on the ground beside us and pulled me into his arms. "Weep, child," he whispered. "It is alright. Weep."

And I did. I don't know for how long. I stained his white robes with tears. And he held me like I had held Arton moments ago. "You have been strong down in the caves for others, I imagine," he said. "Let someone be strong for you now."

Eventually I calmed. The stench around me faded. The sunlight was taken away. Gandalf had picked me up and was carrying me through the halls of the Hornburg. He placed me on a bench in an unoccupied corridor. I wiped my eyes clean to see him better.

Gandalf sat beside me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Why run to the battlements?" he asked.

"Fion," I muttered horsley. "Had to find Fion."

"A friend of yours?"

"I'm his caretaker. One of his caretakers. He was drafted by the king."

"Do not fret, child," he said, taking my hand in his. "Lord Eomer kept the youngest lads in the towers to defend with bows and rocks. None of the youth parished."

I looked up, back into those blue eyes. "He did?"

He nodded and stood. "This Fion will find you soon enough. No more tears need be shed."

"But what about everyone else?" I argued.

"Their souls will find peace now. The time for mourning will be upon us soon enough. There are many alive that need attention."

I nodded. "I should get back to the other kids."

"Actually, if you'll permit me. Legolas wishes to speak to you."

"Who?" I asked.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "He said that you had met briefly on the travels."

"I'm sorry. I don't know anyone by that name."

He grinned. "I find it hard to believe an Elf would lie to me, Mallory."

"Elf?" I asked. "You mean the Elf of your traveling party?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"We were never introduced." I stood up beside him. "What does he want with me?"

"I believe he has a message to deliver."

What message could an Elf possible had for me? I started to ask, but Gandalf motioned for me to follow him and he led me through the corridors to the nobles' halls.

He gestured me inside a large room. Gimli, Aragorn, and the Elf, Legolas, were there. Aragorn was cleaning his face, he and Gimli still covered in the remains of the battle. Legolas was clean, however and he wore fresh clothes. His hair was braided out of his face once more, but it was still wet.

"Maiden Mallory!" Gimli exclaimed, walking to me and kissing my hand, burying it in his dirty beard. He pulled it back and saw the dirt there. "Oh, forgive me," he said, trying to brush it off with his hand, but that only seemed to make it dirtier.

"How fair the women and children?" Aragorn asked me.

"I left them as soon as the victory had been called," I said. Aragorn put down his washcloth and gestured me over to a chair.

"She ran straight up to the battlements after," Gandalf said. "Vomited when she saw the ruin."

"You must be hungry," Legolas said, reaching into a pack by his feet and pulling out a small piece of white bread wrapped in a leaf. "It is not much," he offered. "But it will fill you."

I looked at his outstretched hand, then back at that unnaturally beautiful face of his. I still didn't like it.

A strange mix of sounds came out of Aragorn's mouth when I did not accept the bread. A musical language I had never heard. Legolas retreated, his handsome features looking somewhat pained. Gandalf knelt down beside me. "He did not mean to startle you, child."

"I'm-I'm okay," I said, but no one in this group saw through the lie.

"The Elves are strange creatures," Gimli chuckled. "Don't much care for them myself. But Legolas would never harm you, sweet maiden. He is the best of his kind."

I looked back at the Elf, this strange creature I had never encountered. "I'm sorry. I've just never met an Elf before. They don't exist in my world."

"Of course," Legolas said. "That is what I wished to talk to you about."

"My world?" I asked.

"No, that would be what I wish to discuss," Gandalf said.

"I was bid to deliver a message to you," Legolas said, offering me the bread again. I took it this time. It seemed weightless, not at all like the dense breads I had been taught to make in the Mark.

"What is this?" I asked, taking a bite. It tasted of sweet flour. Very plain, but my stomach seemed to fill instantly, a feeling I had not had since departing Aldburg.

"Elvish waybread," he answered.

I made to take another bite, but found I didn't really need it. I was full. So I set it down beside me. "What message could you possibly have for me?"

"A message from Boromir of Gondor."

I nearly jumped out of my seat. "You know Boromir? Where is he? Did he make it to um...Imladris he called it."

Their faces all turned solemn. "Boromir is dead," Aragorn said. "Slain by Orcs protecting our companions."

"He fought valiantly," Legolas said. "Were it not for him, the smallest of our companions would have perished. Three arrows to the chest it took to take him down."

"How did this happen?" I asked.

"He was part of our band of travelers," Legolas said.

"The Fellowship. Broken when he fell," Gimli said, a tear slipping from his eye.

"He spoke of you to me," Legolas said. "Spoke of a strange but beautiful girl making a new home for herself in the Riddermark, though against her wishes. He told me of your past and how you came to be here. Or rather how you do not know how you came to be here."

"When Eomer spoke of you to Gandalf, we could not believe our ears," Aragorn said. "We thought tracking you down to deliver this message would be much more difficult."

"Why didn't you give me the message back in Edoras?" I asked him.

"It was not mine to give. Boromir passed the message between Legolas."

"I tried to deliver it on the road. We were interrupted by the child with her scraped knee," Legolas said.

"What is it then? The message?"

Legolas bowed his head. "Boromir was unable to find time to speak to Lord Elrond as he had promised. My kinsmen found themselves distracted by Frodo, our Halfling companion. He was gravely injured and frequently attended to by Elrond. When he had recovered, the meeting of the free folk had commenced and he never found the time."

I leaned back in the chair. Why did every friend I made here have to die? I assumed Eomer was fine. They would have mentioned his death by now, but it hardly mattered anyway. Whatever friendship we had, he killed it with his kiss before the battle.

"How fair you with this news?" Legolas asked. "I know it is not what you wish to hear."

I shook my head. "I'm growing more used to disappointment by the day. I only wish I could have seen Boromir one last time. We only met once, but he was kind to me. He didn't treat me like an outsider." I turned to Gandalf. "What do you wish to discuss about my world, exactly?"

"I only wish to hear your tale," he said. "And then I will see if I can help you."

I looked around the room, wondering how they would handle it. Everyone knew at this point, at least the basics. And since magic was a natural part of this world, I assumed that was the only reason I hadn't been thrown in the loony bin. So I layed out my story for them. All of it leading up until the arrival at Helm's Deep. The rescue on the plains, Eothain and his death, my new job as a caretaker of the orphanage, and my journey to Edoras. I told them what I had told Boromir those few months ago about my homeworld. A world of no magic and its futuristic setting to the comparison of this world.

"Well, child that is quite the tale," Gandalf said. But I could see the disappointment in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. Finally, I could read someone in this world.

"And you can't help me." It wasn't a question.

He shook his head solemnly. "Alas, in my many years, I have never encountered magic of this sort. I am sorry, Mallory."

I shook my head. "Like I said, I'm growing used to the disappointment."

A knock sounded on the door, bringing us all out of our states. "Enter," Gandalf said.

The very last person in this world I wanted to see right now came through the door. "Theoden King requests your presence," Eomer said. Then his eyes landed on me. "Mallory?"

I stood up, breaking the sudden tension that had formed in the room. "Go," I said to the travelers. "If the king bids you, I won't keep you. I should return to the orphans. See if Fion has made his way back to them."

Gandalf coughed and stood up. "When does the king wish to depart?"

"On the morrow," Eomer answered. "He wishes to debrief the battle tonight, however."

"Very well." Gandalf turned back to me. "Thank you for your story, Mallory."

"Thank you for listening," I said, turning to the other three. "All of you." With that, I bolted from the room and back down the hall before Eomer could stop me. Avoidance. For now, that would be my tactic. Even though the battle was over and won, I still couldn't bear to break his heart.


	15. Chapter 15

**"** **Artists use lies to tell the truth. Yes, I created a lie. But because you believed it, you found something true about yourself."** **―** **Alan Moore**

Chapter 15

She ran so fast from the room and down the hall, I could not stop her. My eyes followed the hem of her skirt until it disappeared around the corner and out of the noble halls. I rubbed my eyes. I had ruined everything. Scared her. I had never been good at my timing. It was not often I found favor in women like I did with her. I should not have told her. I should have waited on my impulses.

"She is an interesting creature," Gandalf said, coming out into the hall with me.

"Do you believe her tale?" Aragorn asked. "To me, it seems rather...I am not sure how to describe it."

"Fictional?" Legolas suggested.

Gimli huffed. "Not sure why she would lie. What has she to gain?"

"Mallory is not a liar," I defended, earning looks from the four of them. Damn my tongue. "I have spent countless hours with her in Aldburg. She pours over my maps obsessively. Knows nothing of this world. How could she be lying?"

"Boromir did not think her a liar," Legolas said. "But even I must admit, her story holds no logic."

"Magic is not a source of logic, Legolas Greenleaf," Gandalf interjected. "And some would argue many of its properties over the years have come to seem like fiction to the everyman."

"The king waits for us," I said, cutting them all off. I did not want to be a part of this conversation. "We should not linger."

I led them through the halls to the royal dias where Theodred once held seat. Theoden was waiting, sitting in my cousin's chair. Elfhelm was there as well. He would be taking the seat soon as Second Marshal in Theodred's absence. But custom dictated that he would lend it to Theoden in his visits, just as I would my seat in Aldburg if he were ever to travel there. Erkenbrand stood to the side as well, our savior in this battle.

"I thank you, Gandalf for bringing Erkenbrand and his party to our aid," Theoden said as we arrived, each bowing before my uncle. "Without him this battle would have been lost. Rohan but a speck of the past."

"I have told you, my lord," Gandalf said. "I only wish to serve the realm. To bring peace to the lands of Men once more."

"There will be no peace until Saruman answers for his crimes," Theoden said, standing from his chair. "What of his seat at Orthanc?"

"Of that I know not. I would hope Treebeard and his Ents would have marched on Isengard, but to predict the will of beings so old and slow would be but a guessing game."

"So it is true?" Elfhelm asked. "The Ents of legends have awakened?"

"You saw them yourself, or at least a part of them. The Huorns of Fangorn are also owed your thanks in the victory of this battle. And I think you will find many things of legend have been awakened in this war, young Eorlingas."

"A ride should be made to Orthanc," Theoden demanded. "Let it be known to Saruman the White that he will never have hold over the Riddermark again. Demand his release from the Wizard's council as an answer to his crimes."

"Yes, my lord," Gandalf said, earning Theoden another bow.

"We will ride first thing on the marrow. There is too much to tend to here to leave in this moment. Eomer," Uncle said, calling me forward. "You will ride with us, my sister-son, so that Saruman may know the face of my valiant successor. The face of Rohan's future. Until then, rest. Rest has been earned by all of us for one night."

"As you command, Uncle," I said, bowing, though I knew no rest would come to me until I spoke to her.

* * *

I practically tore the helmet off of his head when I saw his small frame. "Thank god, you're alright," I cried, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Lord Eomer took care of me," Fion said, hugging me back. "All of us. Lord Gamling had given us swords but Lord Eomer came and took them away, demanding bows instead. I hardly saw any direct combat."

I thought back to the bodies of the dead, of both Orcs and Rohirrim, and shuttered. Though I was still going to do my best to avoid Eomer, I couldn't deny that I owed him a thanks for Fion's life.

"You must be exhausted," I said, helping him remove his chainmail.

He looked timidly at his bed. "I-I am not all that tired, Mallory."

I laughed. "Fion, you're always tired."

He smiled, though half-heartedly. "You are right. But...might I be left alone for a while?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. "Get some sleep, my dude. You deserve it."

I shut the door on our small room. Vanesse was waiting for me on the other side. "He does not seem like himself."

"I doubt he will, for a while. But I think we should leave him alone for now."

"Solitude will do us all a comfort," she agreed. "The little ones and Lia are asleep."

"Lia too? Thank god."

My companion smiled. "I thought she would never find rest, poor thing."

I looked at her for a moment then. Her long blonde hair, almost to her waist that she kept in a long braid behind her back. Her small nose and green eyes, though they were nothing like Eomer's. "How did you get this job, Vanesse?"

"My uncle was married to Lady Theodel. She founded the orphanage in Aldburg. Before her, they were distributed as fosters to families across the Mark. I spent many days of my childhood helping them build it and tending to the orphans it held. I was an orphan myself, you see. After the death of my uncle and his wife, I took it over. That was not all that long ago. Maybe four years."

"Who's Theodel?"

"The king's late sister. Lord Eomer's aunt. I do not know the Marshal well, but he treats me somewhat like family and for that I am grateful." She paused, giving me a small smile. "It brings me joy to see you and Lord Eomer. I know he fancies you."

I shook my head. "It's not like that. It can't be like that."

"Why not?"

"He'll ask me to stay. I can't stay here," I said. "I'm not from here. I don't belong. And the place I do belong...even if I found a way for him to follow me, he couldn't. He's the heir to Rohan now."

"Have you found a way to get back?" she asked. "Any progress at all?"

I shook my head. "I honestly don't know if I ever will."

"I pray to Bema every night for you, Mallory. I want you to find a way home, I really do. But please never say that you do not belong here. In the month and a half you have been with these children, they have grown to love you. They consider you the only family they have left. You and I." She paused again and I could see her eyes growing wet. "My husband passed two years ago, leaving me a young widow. These children are all I have left. And you. But they and I are not all you have. You could have so much more. Never forget how many blessings you have been given."

I didn't know what to say. This girl, who had endured more than I could ever imagine. The loss of parents, I understood. My mom died when I was seventeen. And while my father was still alive, all I saw from him was the occasional birthday card with no return address. After I graduated high school, my aunt sent me off to college and I was left to myself. What all did I really have back there, on Earth? A job? I loved my job, but the one I had found here...I couldn't deny it left me more fulfilled when I went to bed at night. Friends? Yes of course, but none that I would call my family like the one who sat beside me now. Technology?

Then it hit me. My whole life I had been surrounded by computers. Of a phone with a dozen social media apps. Apps that made me feel satisfied with how I viewed my world and the people in it. With the click of a button, I could figure out where anyone was. How they chose to tell the world how they were feeling. People here weren't magically perceptive. They had just learned to understand people in a way I never got the chance.

The right way to love people.

"Have I upset you, Mallory?" Vanesse asked.

I smiled and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you." I pulled back. "I have to find Eomer."

She smiled, her tears still lingering in her eyes. "Go to him. I will watch the little ones."

* * *

I ran through the halls, back towards the nobles' quarters. People stared at me at I darted past them, but I didn't care about their stares anymore. When I reached the landing to the main keep, I found an older Rider there, sharpening a steel point that I assumed would eventually serve at the head of a spear. A red shield sat at his feet.

"Can I help you miss?" he asked, looking up.

"I came to see Lord Eomer?"

"Why?" he demanded, suddenly defensive.

I took a minute to catch my breath. Of course the men here would be suspicious. He was heir to the throne. That probably meant he wasn't as accessible to me as he was in Aldburg.

"I owe him my gratitude. He called for the position of the younger children drafted to be in the towers. I saw the battlements, sir. I know without his kindness that the young boys would likely be dead if it weren't for his call."

He stood, setting down his whetstone and spearhead. "What do they call you?"

"Mallory Gilmore."

He nodded. "Aye I have heard that name. Since my arrival it has circulated through the keep, even from the mouth of Gandalf himself. Eomer is not in his quarters at this time."

"Where is he?"

"The stables, tending to Firefoot. Theoden King has demanded him to journey on the morrow."

"Where? Back to Aldburg?"

The old Rider shook his head. "Nay, miss. I doubt Eomer will return to Aldburg for some time. They make to ride to Isengard. You would do well to find him soon."

"Thank you, um…"

"Erkenbrand. Now, go. Make haste."

* * *

The old Rider Erkenbrand had not lied. In the stables I found Eomer with ease, Firefoot's coat standing out from the surrounding horses. There were a few stable hands, but other than that, we were alone.

"Eomer?" I called.

He turned, Firefoot's brush in his hand. He looked surprised, but I hardly cared. I ran into his arms, jumping up and wrapping my own around his neck. He caught me, my feet dangling off of the ground as he held me. I heard Firefoot's brush hit the floor.

"Oh, Mallory," he breathed into my ear, holding me tightly. "I feared you were angry with me."

"I was," I muttered. "But I've had some time to think things over." I pulled away and he placed my feet back on the ground. "Thank you for keeping your promise. I don't know what would have happened to Fion if you hadn't."

He shook his head. "I have broken too many promises to you. I had to keep at least one."

"I'm done asking for them. I spoke to Gandalf. He doesn't know how to help me."

"You do not seem upset by that."

I shook my head, sitting down on a bench. "I was. But like I said, I've had time to think things over."

He sat beside me, wrapping my hands inside his own. "Mallory, before the battle...I shouldn't have...it was impulsive of me."

I squeezed his hands back. "Eomer, I needed you to do what you did. I certainly wouldn't have done it. I'm just glad I was able to figure things out before I rejected you. But I'm not going to anymore. Don't worry."

"What about your home?"

I hesitated. "My home...it was all I had ever known. The thought of leaving it all behind for the unknown forever...But Rohan is not unknown to me anymore. I've learned the language. Made friends. Found a family. That's more than was ever given to me back on Earth." I paused and moved my hands to either side of his face, feeling the fibers of his beard there. "I didn't choose South Carolina. I choose Rohan."

He smiled, grabbing hold of my wrist and giving it a squeeze. "And I choose you, Mallory Gilmore."

He laid his lips on mine and I melted into the kiss, wrapping my arms around him once again. Taking in his scent of hay, summer sun, and honey. I had never been this close to him before. I felt his hand entangle with my hair and he pulled me deeper in, bringing me closer to the warmth of his body. He wore no armor, only a thin cotton shirt and I could feel his hard muscles contract as he held me tighter and tighter. I put my own hand into his golden mane of hair. I could feel the small dampness that lingered from a bath. I stroked the braids there, the braids of a warrior.

Someone was coughing, but I gave them no mind as his arm moved to my waist and pulled me onto his lap. "Um...Lord Eomer?"

He broke the kiss then, his magnificent green eyes growing dark as he glanced over my shoulder. "What?" he growled.

I looked over. It was one of the younger Riders. "Theoden King bids you join him for evening meal."

"Tell my uncle I will join him when I am less distracted."

The Rider nodded and practically ran away. "You should go," I muttered, beginning to stand up, but he pulled me back onto his lap.

"I will in a moment. This is the most peace I have known in years. Let me relish in it a moment longer." And he wrapped his arms around me again as I lay my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes, taking in the scent of him as much as I could.

But a thought crept into my mind. "One of the Riders told me you're going to Isengard tomorrow."

"Aye," he breathed. "Uncle wishes to parlay with Saruman. Have him answer for his crimes."

"What about after?" I said, remembering Erkenbrand's words about Eomer not going back to Aldburg for some time.

"Edoras. There are many men to lay to rest. A feast will be given to the combatants. It is Rohan tradition." He pulled me up to face him. "You'll be coming with me, have no fear, _min breostcea._ I will meet you there. You, Vanesse, and the children."

I smiled, laying my head back down on his shoulder. I could have fallen asleep there, I was so comfortable.

And I must have. I woke to a heavy breathing in the corner of the room. Eomer must have carried me back to my chambers. Fion was sitting up in his cot, his eyes bloodshot and watery, sweat dripping down his face.

"Hey," I said, jumping out of bed and crawling in beside him. "It's alright," I whispered, wrapping him in my arms. "It's all over. It's alright."

I held him until he calmed back into sleep and I placed his head gently onto a pillow, kissing his sticky forehead.

I crawled back under my own covers. The sun had set and I could see the twinkling of stars against the light of the moon through our tiny window.

This battle was over, but it was not yet gone from Rohan. I could see that now.


	16. Chapter 16

**"Years from now, when all the junk they've gotten is broken and long forgotten, you'll still have your stars."― Jeannette Walls**

Chapter 16

Fion didn't wake again until morning. When he did, I ruffled through the bag of food that had been dropped off here before the battle. The weybread Legolas had given me was finally wearing off and I knew Fion would be hungry. Lia was still in Vanesse's room with the others and it was just the boy and I.

"I owe you a thanks," he said, taking an apple from my hand. "Many thanks, actually."

"For what?"

"Vanesse is good at this," he said, turning the red fruit over and over in his hands. "But when you are the eldest of the bunch, you tend to get overlooked. It is not her fault. She has cared for me more than I could ever know. I never knew my mother. She died in childbirth. Vanesse was the best I could wish for. Then you came along. I just...I owe you many thanks, Mallory. Even if you do decide to go back to your home, I want you to know that."

I smiled, sitting down beside him, wrapping one arm around his neck and pulling him into a nuggy. "I'm not going anywhere, squirt, you hear me?" I said over his laughter.

When I released him, he smiled "You're staying? You mean it?"

"Of course I'm staying. What would you do without me?"

He jumped up, taking a bite of the apple. "We should pack. Vanesse said we're going back to Aldburg today."

"Aldburg?" I asked, remembering my conversation with Eomer last night. "Aldburg doesn't have a great feast waiting for us."

"Huh?"

"We'll head to Edoras today. Eomer told me himself."

"We get to go to the feast!" he said excitedly.

"You bet your bottom dollar! Get packed, my dude. We wouldn't want to be late."

I left him and made to knock on Vanesse's door beside me, but was stopped on the other side of my own. Erkenbrand, the soldier from the noble halls was there. "I am glad to catch you awake, Lady Mallory." Lady? Huh. I didn't have a good grasp of the noble social customs. I assumed he was just being polite. "Do you make for your party to pack for the travels?"

"I was about to."

"Lord Eomer has requested me as your guard to Edoras. We know not what creatures still walk the lands after the victory yesterday. It may still be dangerous."

"Why would I need a guard?" I asked. "I've never been given one before."

"I only follow orders, my lady. I rarely ask questions. A party will leave earlier than the wounded. Make haste and we can meet them before they depart."

He backed up to the wall of the corridor, grasping his hands behind his back. I crinkled my eyebrows in curiosity, but didn't question him before knocking on the door and informing Vanesse of the plans. She was excited, of course. All of the kids were, even Lia. And I was shocked a bit when we went outside and she practically jumped into Erkenbrand's arms. "Uncle!" she called excitedly.

I vaguely remembered her telling me that her uncle still fought as a Rider and the old man laughed, catching her as she jumped. "I see now why Eomer has asked this of me," he said happily. "What joy your happy face brings me, my niece."

I smiled. It made sense now. This was another thing I would have to thank Eomer for when I saw him tonight.

* * *

Two horses and a cart had been gifted our group by Eomer. "He said to not have the children walk any father, least they wish it themselves," Erkenbrand said, motioning for them all to jump onto the cart.

"Whose horses are these?" I asked, petting the grey one bearing the cart on its soft nose.

"They are part of Theoden King's personal stables."

"It is too much," Vanesse said, hesitating getting onto the cart herself.

"Eomer said you would say such things, Miss Vanesse. But the Marshal insisted nonetheless."

She looked like she wanted to argue, but I assumed she thought of the long walk ahead and decided to spare her feet another journey.

"There is no room for Mallory!" Tara called.

"And that is the reason for this filly here," Erkenbrand said, pulling a blond mare whose reins he held forward. "Eomer said it was time you had a horse. He doesn't lend Firefoot to just any filly either. This one here is his offspring."

I shook my head. "I'm not a rider. I don't know how."

Erkenbrand laughed. "Then it is time you learned, my lady."

"Wait," Mariel said, standing up in the cart. "Why would Lord Eomer give all of this to us?"

"Because he is in love with Mallory, you dolt," Fion said, lazing back against a barrel of hay.

"Fion!" Vanesse said and scolded him for his name calling.

I ignored him and turned back to Erkenbrand. "I can't learn to ride on the road."

"There is no better place. The mare is well trained."

I walked over and petted her mane. "What's her name?"

"Brytta, my lady."

"Why have you started calling me by a title?"

"Would you like me to stop?" he asked. "It only felt appropriate, given the situation."

"What situation?" How much did he know?

"Rohirrim are an honorable people, my lady. Lord Eomer has begun to court your heart and I respect that."

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Only to grant your party these gifts and see you safely to Edoras."

"Nothing else?"

"What else would there be, my lady?"

I shook my head. "Just making sure." The mare was already tacked and I slipped my foot into the stirrup, and swung my leg over the saddle. "How do I look?" I asked, holding the reins tightly.

"You look like a shieldmaiden!" Tara said wistfully.

Erkenbrand laughed. "One step at a time, little miss. Let us teach your caretaker to ride first."

* * *

From the back of a horse, the trip seemed to fly by, though it was past midday when we reached the golden hall once again. Smells of food wafted from inside Meduseld and my mouth watered. It had been over a week since any of us had seen a hot meal.

My thighs ached from the ride, however. When I tried to descend Brytta, my knees buckled and I collapsed under the weight of my body and pains from my legs. Erkenbrand was a good teacher, showing me from atop his own horse how to use the reins to tell Brytta my commands. The Rider jumped off his own horse and helped me back to my feet. "Fatigue," he said. "It is common, no worries, my lady. The more you ride, the more used to it you will grow."

"Did Eomer say why he was gifting me a mare?" I asked.

"Only that he hoped you to learn swifty with a good companion." I nodded as a woman in a simple green dress approached us.

"Lord Erkenbrand," she said with a small bow. "Quarters have been prepared for the Riders in the barracks. I can lead your companions to the lower levels for rest before the feast tonight."

"Nay, miss. I have instructions from the king's nephew on that matter," he said, handing her a scroll from his pocket. "That is a message for Lady Eowyn. Lady Mallory is to be housed in the king's personal guest quarters, her entire party."

"All of these children?" the girl asked, looking over at their tired bodies crawling off the cart.

"Aye, miss. It is all explained in the letter."

"Lady Eowyn did not have us prepare such quarters."

"And that is why her brother wrote her directly."

"We can stay in the lower level," I said. These gifts were becoming too much. "It really is no trouble."

"No, my lady," she said with another bow. It was weird to be bowed to. I didn't like it. "If Lord Eomer has requested it, we will make it happen. Rooms were prepared for others. We can put you in those and prepare more for the guests tonight."

* * *

The rooms were the closest thing to exquisit that I assumed this world could get. Hot baths were drawn for us when we arrived and I sank into one immediately. I hadn't had a hot bath since before coming here. That luxury had never been offered to me in Aldburg. All of these luxuries hadn't.

Vanesse came into the bathing room when I was done. A servant of the hall came to fetch the children to give Vanesse and I a moment of peace and help them bathe before I started. I had protested, but the servant had said she had been sent by Lady Eowyn. That seemed unlikely, given our singular past encounter, but I accepted, grateful for some alone time with my friend.

"It this normal?" I asked her.

"Is what?"

"This," I said, gesturing around the bathroom. "The gifts, the kindness from Eomer."

She shrugged. "My husband was a miller's boy. He had not the means to woo me with gifts to the likes of these. He brought me flowers. Once he purchased rare oranges from a Dol Amroth trader. But I suppose for the king's heir, it is normal, yes. Why do you ask?"

"It's just...where I'm from relationships tend to start out with paying for a nice meal. Not a bunch of expensive gifts."

"You mean to stay now, yes?" she asked. I nodded. "Well, perhaps this is something to get used to."

I couldn't lie, while it was a lot, I liked the gifts. I liked the attention. I felt special. Taken care of. I had spent the last few months of my life taking care of all these children I had forgotten what it was like to be given that myself. Did Eomer know that? I hadn't even known it.

"Evening draws near," she said as I pulled on a shift behind a screen. "While you were bathing one of the servants brought us some fresh clothes. Fion is to sit with the Riders and the other men who fought the battle. Lia with her uncle. The little ones will be watched over by one of Meduseld's girls. Lady Eowyn insisted."

"You spoke to Eowyn?" I asked, coming out from behind the screen.

"Yes. She is waiting for you out in the room."

Oh holy shit. I wasn't expecting that. I had been hoping to ask Erkenbrand what Eomer had said in his letter to her before I was forced to confront her. Better yet, I had hoped to not speak to her at all. I knew I would have to eventually, but I at least wanted Eomer there in case she tried to attack me again.

I had been given too much luck for one day, it had seemed.

She was sitting on the edge of one of the beds in the room. I didn't know who the room had been intended for. The room held two beds, larger than the ones I had become accustomed to back in Aldburg's barracks and its orphanage. There was an adjacent room that held the same two large beds. Cots had also been moved there for the children, but they were not the straw stuffed things they had been sleeping in as of late. I smiled thinking of the great sleep they would get on the downe mattresses.

"Lady Eowyn?" I said, walking into the room.

Her eyes surveyed me. They were the same shape as Eomer's, but grey rather than green. And they were taking in my entire form. "I take it my brother has recently made some kind of declaration in your favor?" she asked.

"If you already know the answer, why ask the question?" I didn't want to be rude to her, but I also wanted to make it clear that I wouldn't back down when it came down to whatever animosity we somehow held for each other. She was strong, it was clear to see. I was strong too, and I needed her to know that.

She rolled her eyes. "I did not come here to fight with you, Mallory Gilmore."

"Then why did you come?"

"Eomer will be arriving soon. I wanted to speak with you before he could intervene."

"Do you still think I'm mooching off of your brother? Or that I intend him harm?"

"I do beg your pardon, but I do not understand. 'Mooching?'"

"Taking advantage of him and his hospitality."

She nodded. "I will not deny, since receiving his letter, the thought has crossed my mind."

"I never asked him for help," I said, sitting down in a chair by the fireplace. "I was lost, scared, and confused. I didn't speak Rohirric and my ability to communicate was limited. I was thrust into a world I never knew existed. He saw that and he showed me kindness. Whatever happened after was a result of that kindness, not a desire to use him."

She took a deep breath. "My brother is Eorlingas. As deep of an Eorlingas one can be. And as much as his desire to help those who need it is embedded in Eorlingas culture, he is also a hard man. We are a country of hardships, Mallory Gilmore. Hardships make men weary. Protective. It also makes them prone to hard exteriors. What I am trying to say is that my brother does not often let strangers enter his life as you have. Our family has a difficult past with love. And Eomer has adapted to that past."

"Have you?" I asked.

She all but dropped her jaw. "You are rather impertinent, aren't you?"

"I've been told that once or twice, yes."

"I let people in more than my brother, and I have suffered for it," she admitted. "But I learn from my experiences. I would rather him learn from mine than suffer it himself."

"I know you love your brother," I said. "I can't imagine what that love is like. I am an only child. But I swear to you, Eowyn, I do not intend any harm to him."

"Your intentions are no longer what I fear. What I fear now, after reading his letter, is that his fate will be similar to that of our mother's."

"What happened to your mother?"

She shook her head. "I have said more than I intended. Let us leave this matter, for now, with an apology. I have had time to think over my harsh words to you since the people's departure to Helm's Deep. Being alone with my thoughts...I have been given time to make sense of them. And I am sorry."

"Why did you do it? Attack me like that?"

She took another deep breath. "The halls of Meduseld have been dark for many years. After Grima Wormtongue had grown bored working Saruman's magic on my uncle, his attention turned to me. My guard has been heavy on any potential threats since then. But he is gone now and I am as safe as I can be in these times."

She would probably never tell me what is was that this guy did to her and it really wasn't any of my business, in the end. "Thank you, Eowyn."

She nodded and stood. "I am by no means ready to call you a friend. But I am Eorlingas and will show you the hospitality you deserve. There are dresses for you and Vanesse in the wardrobe. They are not extravagant, but they are clean. I will see you again at the feast."

I smiled as she walked out of the room. All of that was more than I ever thought I would get from the White Lady. I didn't need to be her friend, but it was nice to know that I was no longer her enemy.

I dressed in the simple green dress from the wardrobe, leaving the blue one for Vanesse. There was also a brown vest to wear over it. Eowyn said they were not extravagant, but I begged to differ. I owned only three dresses, one given to me from Frieda and two more that I had purchased with the coin she had given me back when I had been working for her. They were both uneventful and served only the purpose of clothing me and keeping me warm. This dress, while still simple compared to American standards, would be the most beautiful thing I owned. I fingered the embroidery on the neckline and hems of the sleeves. It was a pattern of white flowers, like the ones that lay on the graves back in Aldburg. Great care and detail had been put into this dress which could only have been stitched by hand.

A horn sounded and I jumped to the window. Theoden's party was approaching the gates, which had been left open as people made their way from the Hornburg throughout the day. I could see Gandalf's beard flow in the wind and a spotted grey horse that could have only been Firefoot.

Tonight would be my last good night in this war, though I couldn't have known it in that moment.

* * *

 _A/N: I have some questions, if you wouldn't mind me asking._

 _Who is your favorite of the characters and who do you want to see more of?_

 _Does this story, after having been casually written over the course of a year and a half so far, make narrative sense? Are you confused by anything?_

 _Are you here cause you're an Eomer fan or do you like GFIME stories?_

 _What do you think of Mallory? Do you need more backstory? Do her choices make sense?_

 _I'm asking these questions because I'm aware that it's taken me a long time to get this out onto the internet. Since starting it, I have graduated college, moved 500 miles away from home, and gotten my first career-based job. I know it's been a slow ride, but I really do enjoy writing fanfics and I want to keep doing it. But I also want to keep my readers involved. Thank you to the readers who've stuck it out. I still don't know how often I'll be able to write. I managed to squeeze out these last few chapters so quickly because I finally figured out where I'm going with this story and what I want to say. I was also on vacation. That helped._

 _Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for sticking around and I'm sorry I can't be as productive with this story as I would like to be. I have every intention of finishing it, especially now that I know where it's headed, but I wanted to give an explanation for my ridiculous timing._

 _Thank you guys so much and I can't wait for your feedback!_


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